Reunion
by Scarlett Rose
Summary: *COMPLETE* A unexpected reunion jolts Christine and Erik. Fluffy but fun! This story began as PG13 but rapidly escalated into an R rating. It is not possible to accurately portray such a passionate character as Erik in muted terms.
1. Default Chapter

Chapter One  
  
The strong wind blew sharply from the North, freezing noses and causing shivers. Brown, orange and yellow leaves crunched underneath boots like the crackling of paper. Children played tag in the meadow beside the market while blissfully ignoring their mothers' admonitions. Winter was in the air - soon to be upon them.  
  
Christine de Changy wrapped her cloak tightly around her. The basket she carried was awkward but it did feel good to get out of the house. Several servants cautioned her about the conditions and offered solicitously to go in her stead, but Christine would not hear of it. Somehow it made her feel more alive to be in such inclement weather. She had been secluded too long and the blustery elements in some way cheered her.  
  
She paused to make a few purchases; enjoying the haggling peddlers. She stopped beside a floral cart admiring the fragrant roses, leaning and taking an appreciative whiff of their sweet scent, and continued on her way. There was a bolt of cloth needed for servant's clothes, as well as some more cheese for dinner. Jostling her way through the throng, she mentally went over her shopping list.  
  
Standing aside waiting for the grocer to finish with one of his clients, she looked down to inspect the contents of her basket. To her surprise, there lying among the various items was a perfect, red rosebud. Involuntarily, she voiced her surprise softly wondering how she had picked it up and forgotten to pay for it. She did not remember placing it there. As she made off to pay for the rose, a gentle hand caught her elbow and a voice she thought never to hear again whispered, "Christine!"  
  
Frozen in place, she knew it was him before she turned and gasped with recognition. Suddenly self-conscious, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks even as she put out her hand towards him as though to determine if he were real.  
  
Erik. Here. His same commanding presence, familiar black cloak and hat low on his forehead. He looked down at her with eyes that were intense but unreadable behind the mask. They stood staring at each other in disbelief for several moments. Finally, Christine spoke softly "Erik, I....I can't believe it is you."  
  
Struggling to find his voice and speak normally, Erik uncharacteristically cleared his throat.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she stammered, abruptly realizing her rudeness. "I mean, where.."  
  
"It's all right, Christine. I apologize for frightening you but when I saw you, I wanted to say hello." Erik replied.  
  
Nervously laughing, she answered, "Well, the last place I expected to see you is here at the market!"  
  
He continued to watch her keenly from beneath his hat. Christine was at a loss as to what in the world to say. Gratefully, she turned her attention to the impatient grocer who had obviously been trying to get her notice. After telling him what she required, she turned back to Erik. The brisk wind caused his cloak to swirl around him and, unexpectedly, she remembered the feeling of being wrapped in its warmth.  
  
She looked up at Erik silently imploring him to speak. He shifted and looked away from her, "I should not have made you aware of my presence here. Forgive me for making you uncomfortable, Christine."  
  
"Oh, Erik, no..it is just that I was surprised. Truly." she answered, worriedly wondering if he meant to depart. "It is good to see you." she said honestly. He swiftly brought his gaze back to her as though to gauge the truthfulness of her words. Satisfied, he replied in a low voice, "You look well, Christine."  
  
"Thank you. You look well, too, Erik. Are you living close by?" she faltered.  
  
"Actually, yes. I live on the other side of the village in a home I purchased when I realized I would be required to remain here indefinitely on business." he answered. "I would not have accepted the commission had I known you were also a resident here. I do not want to cause you any distress, Christine." He looked apologetically at her as though sorry for his presence once again disrupting her life.  
  
"No, I don't mind, Erik. Tell me, what business are you in?" she looked up at him curiously. She was extremely grateful that the conversation was progressing until she could get her heart to beat normally.  
  
"I am an architect and I work with a master builder. I have only been here three weeks." he stated. Erik stared at Christine as though he could not quite believe she was before him. Both felt the strong undercurrent of unasked questions between them. She nodded in answer and looked up at him tentatively. "Will you walk with me?" she hesitatingly asked. He signaled his acquiescence and they strode onward, each unnervingly ill at ease. It had been five years since they had last seen each other and that parting was an unbearably painful memory.  
  
Even so, Erik could not help asking her curtly, "And how is the Vicomte?"  
  
She halted, taking a deep breath. She brought her eyes to Erik's. "He's dead."  
  
Startled by complete shock, Erik stood speechless looking at her. "He died from a wasting illness about two years ago." Christine explained but did not meet his eyes. Erik watched her profile as she continued, "It came upon him suddenly and he dismissed it until he could no longer walk." Erik stayed beside her stunned into complete stillness. All these years, he had imagined his Christine blissfully happy with her easy life shared by her young man. To think of the grief she must have endured these past years was unthinkable. He realized that she was looking up at him with an expression he could not place.  
  
Belatedly, he replied, "I am so sorry, Christine. I had no idea."  
  
"Of course you wouldn't, Erik. Don't be distressed for me. I survived." she murmured, while beginning to walk again. Erik continued to walk quietly beside her for several moments. Christine took another breath and, in a desperate attempt to change the subject, said "How do you like our little village? It is very different from Paris, is it not? I have not been to Paris since...well, since I left." she awkwardly ended.  
  
To put her at ease, Erik pushed his deep thoughts away and answered lightly, "Yes, it is quite peaceful here. Of course, I don't venture out much. I've been terribly engaged with a new project and have not had the opportunity for leisure exploration."  
  
"Tell me what you have been working on, Erik." Christine asked.  
  
As he went on to explain his most recent project, Christine strolled along beside him desperately trying to gather herself. Seeing him again was like wakening all the quivering uncertainties he evoked in her so long ago. She was dreadfully curious to ask him what had happened after she left the Opera but knew it would be highly insulting to inquire it of him. Erik looked extremely well and Christine realized with a start that they had never before walked together in daytime. Of course, today the sun was obscured behind dark clouds and she understood that was perhaps the only reason he would be out. She listened as he continued to converse about an estate he was planning. Who would have ever thought she would meet him again? Remembering all the conflicting emotions he had roused in her, she involuntarily shivered. Erik paused beside her, "Are you cold, Christine?" She almost answered in the affirmative in the off chance he would offer her his cloak once more, but she shook her head. "No, not terribly. It does look as though it may rain and I should be returning home."  
  
Erik nodded as though accepting her inevitable leave-taking once more. With a charged quiet, they regarded each other again intensely. It had been a very long time and so much had happened between them. Uncomfortable as it was, both were glad they had chanced upon the other. Erik gazed with uncertainty at Christine, "May I escort you home, Christine?" He realized she would probably wish to be rid of him and the memories he evoked, but his long-standing manners could not abide her traveling alone. Looking up at him, she answered softly, "Yes, Erik, I would like that." Slowly, they walked down the pathway together unconsciously stepping as one. 


	2. Reunion Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
Attentively, Erik relieved Christine of her basket. Gusty winds whipped the leaves around them in tiny tornados of dust. Erik felt the conditions appropriate as his own insides were swirling as wildly as the wind. He had not been able to turn around and walk in the other direction when he noticed Christine in the market. It was distasteful for him to be in such close company with other people, but he had needed to buy more ink and so he risked it. Moving briskly on the outskirts of the main thoroughfare, he had noticed her small figure and as she pushed her cloak back to smell the roses, he saw her face. His heart had stopped within him when he saw her. Christine was already well past him when he roused himself and impulsively bought a red rose from the vendor. Impatiently, he handed the man far more money than need be but he did not have time to wait for change. Braving the crowd, along with the side glances, he kept his eyes on Christine lest he lose her. His heart compelled him to speak to her; if only to ask after her well-being. The urge was too irresistible.  
  
Now, the two were leisurely walking together attempting distractedly to think of something to say. At precisely the same moment, each spoke out. They looked at each other abashed and laughed simultaneously. "Please." Erik elegantly gestured for her to speak.  
  
"I was going to say that I am glad that I insisted on going to the market this morning. I can't tell you how good it is to see you again, Erik." she said softly. Erik nodded without looking towards her, not trusting his voice. "You should know that I continue to sing."  
  
That surprised Erik enough to pause and glimpse her way. "Yes?" he cautiously answered.  
  
"Yes, but not in as grand a fashion as I did when I was your pupil." Christine peeked out of her hood. "I sing at the cathedral on Sunday mornings. It isn't very impressive, I know, but it is the only singing Raoul permitted me to continue and it keeps my voice limber." She went on, uncomfortable at the mention of her deceased husband in front of Erik.  
  
Erik, ignoring her reference to Raoul "permitting" her to sing and all it inferred, answered sincerely, "They are lucky to have you to sing for them. Your voice is a beauty, Christine, and I cannot conceive of a more appropriate place for such an angelic instrument."  
  
Christine blushed under his effusive praise. His voice was so melodious and caressed her hearing. "Well, it would have been nothing had you not instructed me."  
  
They both remained uneasily lost in thought, remembering. Neither had forgotten the singular pleasure of singing together as their voices reached inside the soul of the other. Presently, the two came to a great iron gate that Christine made to enter. Looking back where Erik had halted, she gazed at him questioningly.  
  
Apologetically, he said hoarsely "This is as far as I should go."  
  
His posture reminded Christine of a frightened colt and she understood his reluctance. She went back to him and reached for her basket. Gently, she answered "You are more than welcome to come inside, Erik. I live alone now."  
  
"No." he stated evenly. He would not endure the stares of her servants. He must get away to calm the storm she had caused when he first saw her.  
  
"Well, perhaps I will meet you again soon, Erik. Thank you for seeing me home."  
  
Again, they regarded each other. Both were inexcusably reluctant to part company; each feeling the meeting preordained.  
  
Erik bowed toward her murmuring "It was my pleasure, Christine. Perchance I will have the honor of hearing you sing again some time."  
  
"That would be lovely. I do hope you will come visit." she offered hopefully.  
  
"Adieu, ma cherie." His whisper lingered in the air around her as he strode down the path from which they had come. Christine stood and watched him move away from her with mixed emotions. She recognized with a sigh that Erik had always caused mixed emotions within her. His cloak lashed around him violently. She was struck by his imposing, strong gait laced with gracefulness. Before he rounded the turn, he did as she had hoped he would and looked back towards her. His eyes pierced her even from a distance and she lifted her hand in farewell. Erik slowly lifted his fingertips to his lips and was gone.  
  
Christine drew a shaky breath as she began toward her home. She would never have imagined meeting with him when she woke up this morning. It would be an immense lie were she to try to convince herself that she had not thought of him in the past five years. Often, she would sit singing in the garden remembering their lessons and speculating how Erik had fared. When she had left him, she was merely a child. Now, as a woman, she recognized much of her fears unfounded. Without fail, Erik had always treated her with respect and would have died rather than hurt her. She had not known that at the time. They had been so young, Raoul and herself, she thought fondly. Yet, marriage had not been what she expected. There were clear-cut class distinctions and Raoul made those very apparent to her. She was not permitted to raise her voice in song unless it was in worship. There were stigmas attached to women who performed on stage and she knew he desired to leave her singing in Paris.  
  
Erik. My God, was it possible that she had just seen him? So much to think over. As she entered the doorway, a light rain had started to fall softly behind her.  
  
Nighttime rain pelted the roof as he sat brooding before the fireplace. His brandy sat untouched on the side table as he contemplated the flames. For the hundredth time that day, he questioned his decision to speak to her. Christine. How had he lived without looking into her beautiful blue eyes? The years had been kind to her and, if possible, she was even more lovely now. He had shocked her, he knew. Yet, he still reeled from the astounding knowledge of her loss. Christine had not been emotionally strong when he knew her before. Now, he was taken aback and oddly pleased at her unassuming, controlled demeanor. She must have gone through hell, but, as she herself declared - she had survived. Tears stung his eyes as Erik imagined her loneliness. Somehow, his own isolation seemed different since he was so accustomed to it. He realized that, as heart-rending as it was, he had counted on Raoul to protect Christine. However, Erik had not counted on this...on his death. Curiously, he felt no victory in realizing his rival was dead. Erik had thought of Christine in Raoul's safekeeping, at least in this life. The realization that Christine was abandoned did not sit well with Erik.  
  
He sighed as he thought of her invitation to come into her home. Not that he ever would, still, it was good to know she didn't think of him with total revulsion. Hours passed as he pondered late into the night. 


	3. Reunion Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Christine had been plagued by thoughts of Erik. Her monotonous, quiet life had been irreversibly altered by their meeting. Over and over, she recalled their past, her betrayal of him, his crimes and, unfortunately, the memory of his kiss. The intensity of that brief contact had not diminished through time. She was deeply ashamed of herself for thinking of it but the memory clung to her stubbornly. In hindsight, she identified the significant tension between her and Erik as undeniably physical. Her innocence had shielded her from such knowledge before but no longer could she deny it. Her agonizing indecision must have cost Erik dearly. He had tolerated her childish whims, always treating her with deference, even as he must have wanted her.  
  
Forcing herself to the present, she went to into her bedroom. This had always been her own designated room and she had not shared it with Raoul. Distractedly, she stood on the balcony lost in the past. Finally, she situated herself near the French doors and tried to focus on her mending, but it was no use.  
  
She was haunted by her Phantom once again.  
  
Bells pealed throughout the tiny village heralding the beginning of Mass. Erik had not stepped foot in a church since his youth but he would hear her voice again. Nothing could keep him from such a temptation. He stood in the vestibule on the side of the great cathedral and inhaled the incense from the altar. Shifting uncomfortably at the prospect of being in a church, he was consoled by the fact that he was relatively alone. The great pipe organ startled him momentarily as the Processional began. Erik nervously lowered his hat on his forehead as though he could disappear behind it. The shadows of the vestibule hid his cloaked form sufficiently, but it was unsettling to be here. Fleetingly, he considered leaving when the voice rose up to Heaven. Suddenly weak, he listened as Christine sang in Latin, grateful for the wall which held him up.  
  
He had forgotten. He had completely forgotten the power her voice had over him.  
  
Christine poured her heart into the melody. She imagined that her Phantom was lurking somewhere in the cathedral and could hear her sing for him. Certainly, she knew that Erik would probably rather be flogged than be in a church but she pretended anyway. She sang as he had taught her, in honor of him and in honor of their memories. Never before had she emptied herself into a service as she did now. He listened, she was sure of it. Inexplicably, tears came to her eyes.  
  
Following the lengthy Mass, Christine bustled out of the church attempting to shoulder her cloak on while she walked. The day was somewhat brighter than recently but it was still cold. She had dismissed her carriage in order to walk home, all the while steadfastly denying to herself that she hoped to encounter Erik. There was no possibility of that and what would she do should she meet him? Sternly rebuking herself, she never noticed the dark shadow which followed her from the forest.  
  
Erik did not dare to approach her with so many people milling about after Mass. He wanted to spare her any awkward explanations to neighbors. As she made her way, he discreetly trailed her until she arrived at a more isolated spot.  
  
Going slightly ahead of her, he reached the path leading to her home and waited silently beside the lane. He heard her footsteps before he saw her and chided himself for the excitement throbbing through his veins at the prospect of talking with her again.  
  
Christine stopped briefly to catch her breath and to stem the rising disappointment. He hadn't come - he had not heard her sing for him. Catching a movement in the corner of her eye, she looked up to find him, arms crossed, leaning gracefully against a tree watching her.  
  
Birds sang above them but neither was aware of anything but each other. Erik remained as still as a serpent. After an eternal minute, Christine realized she was not breathing and exhaled, whispering, "Erik!"  
  
"You sang beautifully, Christine. It is almost enough to cause me to reform my soul and begin attending regularly." he murmured wryly.  
  
"I did not see you, Erik. Were you there?" she smiled.  
  
"Did you think I would miss such an opportunity?" he said softly. "Your voice is the most exquisite sound I have ever heard, my dear."  
  
His words wove a spell over them both as nothing moved or breathed. Their eyes bore into each other; the silence overflowing with taut meaning. Erik slowly moved toward Christine and lifted his hand to her cheek, brushing her face with the back of his fingers. Involuntarily, her eyes closed as she savored his closeness. What was this magic he had always had over her? She opened her eyes and caught him staring at her lips. His eyes flew up towards hers, posing a silent question. Her heart answered, "Yes!" but he reluctantly stepped gradually away.  
  
Disappointed, Christine willed herself to breathe normally. "You flatter me, monsieur."  
  
Placing her hand inside his arm, he began walking with her. The attraction between them was as potent as ever except for one small detail. She was aware of it now; he saw it in her eyes. Like a magnet to steel. He had to control this - there could be nothing more between them and was it not enough to walk with her, talk with her? He could not, would not risk his heart again. To love her and lose her one more time would kill him without fail.  
  
Not knowing what to say, Christine was quiet. Gathering her courage, she asked as casually as possible, "Do you have any plans for this afternoon?" Still not trusting himself to look at her, he told her he did not and instantly regretted his words. "Then, would you care to join me for tea?" she said winningly. She knew she was putting him in an awkward position but felt no remorse.  
  
Erik's eyes glittered as he looked at her. "Why would you want me in your home, Christine?"  
  
She sighed, giving in. "There is so much to talk about, so much we've left unsaid. I'd much rather speak with you in the privacy of my own home than here in the woods. My servants have the day off and we would be quite alone, I assure you."  
  
Somewhat surprised at her blunt explanation, Erik found himself saying, "As you wish."  
  
They turned into the gate up a well-appointed lawn toward the opulent house. "Forgive me, my dear, but I daresay Phillipe did not disown his brother." Erik quipped. Laughingly, Christine shoved Erik in mock disdain. When she opened the door, he hesitated and the hunted look came back to his face. Christine waited and held our her hand. He took it in his carefully and entered the doorway. His eyes surveyed the interior noting touches of Christine everywhere. It was disconcerting to realize she had shared this home with Raoul but he reminded himself that was how he'd always known it would be. Christine allowed his perusal without making a comment, understanding it would be trying for him. Still holding his hand, she led him from the foyer down a hallway. "Now, I want to show you my favorite room." she whispered conspiratorially with an impish grin. Erik raised one eyebrow but said nothing. She led him into a library-turned- music room. In one corner, flanked by windows, was a beautiful grand piano. Almost without realizing it, Erik gravitated towards it as she had known he would.  
  
"Raoul forbid me to own a piano but I confess I did acquire one after he passed away." she explained guiltily. Still, Erik said nothing but stared at the beautiful instrument. Christine came next to him. "I am the only person who has ever played it and it is in dreadful need of tuning. Would you mind?"  
  
Snared now, Erik looked down at her with a slight smile. "You mischievous child! You lured me."  
  
Christine gazed up at him, suddenly serious, and murmured "As you once lured me." Immediately, she could see the change in his eyes as the desire flared. What she once mistook for anger in him was actually passion. Her mouth went dry while she lowered her head in confusion. With a firm hand, Erik lifted her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. Forgetting his caution, he beheld her while the demons inside him begged him to kiss her. With a will of iron, he dropped his hand and moved to sit at the piano.  
  
Christine was entranced as he began to play. His entire being was one with the music and she had quite forgotten how marvelous it was to watch him. Inevitably, he closed his eyes as his body swayed slightly. She was suddenly struck with the evident sensuality in his movements. Drawn to him, she crept closer toward the piano bench and cautiously sat on the edge. His music was captivating and she felt herself deliciously drowning in it.  
  
Erik was aware of the precise moment she sat next to him but continued to play because it kept his hands occupied and also because he knew it pleased her. Unbeknownst to Christine, he played a song he had composed after he had become her Angel of Music. He'd never played it for her before and it seemed right to do so now. The world dwindled to the notes he produced from the piano and the two of them.  
  
Christine had not recalled the strength and power of his music. His talent was mythical and she followed obediently where ever it led her. She prayed he would never stop; that he would just keep playing so she could stay beside him.  
  
His song ended but the enchantment lingered around them, so much that it was almost tangible. Erik kept his eyes on his hands which were resting against the keys, knowing without a doubt, that if he looked at her now, he would take her. They sat digesting the beauty that had surrounded them both until Christine stood. "I'll get you some tea, Erik. Please continue to play. It is pleasing to hear you play again."  
  
Erik watched her leave the room and began to play a safer melody. 


	4. Reunion Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
  
Growling roguishly, Erik corrected her yet again. "No, now pay attention, Christine." He leaned over her instructing her fingers on the keys determined to teach her the tune. She was in a decisively playful mood and it was not conducive to learning. She affected a serious expression as he moved to the side of the piano. Deliberately playing the last note incorrectly, she looked up at him in mock horror. Giving up, Erik rested his head in his hand. "You are quite vexing today, Christine. I can see that it will be useless to try to teach you anything." Christine laughed unselfconsciously and proceeded to play the correct notes in perfect succession. Erik put his hand over his heart and staggered to the nearest chair. "Is it possible?" he asked in awe.  
  
Christine could not remember when she had enjoyed an afternoon more. She and Erik had sang lovely, albeit safe, songs and he had played for her for hours. Their time had been relaxing and with none of the turbulent undercurrent usually felt by both of them. Chuckling, she replayed the incorrect notes once more and Erik resignedly rolled his eyes.  
  
Off her guard, Christine sat back considering him. Her face shone with happiness making it difficult for him to breathe. "Oh, Erik", she sighed contentedly, "I don't remember when I've had such a good time. Thank you so much." She knew she had surprised him but couldn't care. He had long ago divested himself of his hat and cloak and sat enduring her silliness.  
  
"It is I who should be thanking you. I've not ever spent so pleasant an afternoon." He returned while becoming abruptly aware of her beauty once again.  
  
Christine had continued to play nonsense on the keys. She was not looking at him anymore but could literally feel the moment when his mood changed to yearning. Briefly, she wondered how it was possible they could still know each other so well. She'd not experienced such oneness with Raoul, she realized with guilt at comparing them. Once more braving his gaze she asked, "Erik, will you play again or have I completely tired you?"  
  
In answer, he rose and came toward her. He extended his hand to help her up from the bench but she scooted over and patted the space next to her. With every nerve in his body warning him of the danger of such proximity, he stiffly sat beside her. Tightly, he managed, "What would you like to hear?"  
  
"Anything of yours." Christine said quietly.  
  
Making an authoritative effort to collect himself, Erik launched into one of the first songs he had ever taught Christine. She smiled vaguely in remembrance, looking up at him shyly. He had closed his eyes and she looked up at the unmasked side of his face. He had such strong features and would have been exceedingly good looking if fate had been kind. The memory of his deformity sprang to her mind but she dismissed it. There was nothing to fear.  
  
Acutely aware of Christine's regard beside him, Erik suddenly stood and went to the window. It was very late afternoon and still overcast threatening possible snow. Christine looked worriedly at him and tentatively asked, "Erik, is something the matter?"  
  
When he whirled to face her, she brought her hand to her throat at the passionate emotion obvious in his expression. "Is something the matter?", he whispered in a calm that froze her more than an angry outburst would have done. "Christine, tell me. What do you think could be bothering me?" Swallowing, she looked down at the floor unable to meet his eyes. Tension was thick between them as he strode to stand behind her. He brought his hand up to her hair, lightly touching her curls. Brokenly and without warning, he spat, "You left me." Filled with shame, Christine felt tears threaten her in the truth of his words. She couldn't move or speak. He had every right to be angry with her. Before she had left with Raoul, she had planned to betray him to the managers. She could have given him excuses, even reasons, but in the face of his pain she decided it was much kinder to be silent.  
  
"I thought I would not survive without you." he continued. "Unfortunately, my body continued to live on inexorably. I had to leave Paris soon afterward. Too many memories...."  
  
Ashamed at his outburst, he moved to retrieve his cloak and hat. Christine stopped him with her arm but he did not turn towards her. "Erik, please don't go."  
  
He chuckled, amused at the irony of Christine saying that to him.  
  
Wearily, he replied "Christine, I must go. Now. Before I do something we will both regret. We've shared an enjoyable afternoon and I'd like to keep such a precious memory."  
  
Christine detained him with her hand, astonished at how badly she did not want him to leave. All throughout their relationship, her wishes had dictated Erik's will. She decided to give him what he needed for a change and what he needed now was space. She removed her arm. "Very well, Erik. I will see you to the door at least." After he collected his things, she walked down the hallway before him towards the entrance. Once again, the air was almost electric with the unspoken emotion. She looked resignedly up at him and once again thanked him for the afternoon.  
  
Erik was in awe of the mature bearing of the young woman before him. He was sure she would offer the plausible excuses for her leaving, thus, ending in a deluge of tears. This was most unexpected. For a few moments he stood examining her as though she were a remarkable specimen under glass. She returned his regard with a timid smile and he was irrevocably lost.  
  
Bridging the space between them, he held her tightly to him breathing in the scent of her hair. She clung to him mightily and for many moments, they held each other in absolution. His hands were lightly stroking her hair and she felt his lips gently kiss the curls above her forehead. Knowing she tempted fate, she looked up at him with her heart in her eyes. Restraint broke and he lowered his lips to hers feverishly. Gloriously, she received him with all the desire she felt. He gently parted her lips and she felt a wave of heat pour over her when his tongue lightly caressed hers. Grasping the back of his neck, she pulled him down to her, deepening their kiss. Erik would have reeled had she not had such a strong hold on him and he wrapped his arms around her engulfed in hunger. They kissed with unrestrained emotion releasing years of pent-up longing. Trembling, Erik reluctantly broke their union, turning her head on his shoulder and continued to hold her. Christine's breathing was heavy and she felt faint. After some moments when he was certain they could both stand alone, he eased away from her.  
  
His hand on the doorknob, he looked back at her. Her eyes were glazed and her parted lips were swollen from his kiss. With a groan, he wretched the door open and his black figure was swallowed into the night. 


	5. Reunion Chapter Five

Chapter Five  
  
Christine was extremely grateful that her servants were not in today. Stumbling up the stairs as though she were tipsy, she paused at the landing to regain what she could of her breath. Her hand on her chest, she felt her heart beat madly. Mother of Mercy! In that kiss, Erik had completely exposed her soul to his view. Dazed, she wondered if her confusion and exultation could possibly match his own. For she knew that if their embrace affected her so soundly, he must be in torment. Shaking, she made for her bedroom.  
  
Changing into a nightgown, she was very aware of the arousal of her body. She had responded wantonly to him and exulted in it. Christine was no longer an innocent maiden and had known a man's touch. But she could never have imagined the hot fever that still burned within her. Absently, her fingertips went up to her mouth which still tingled from him. She was certain that if he had chosen to take her right there in the foyer that she would have given herself gladly. What insanity was this that he ignited in her?  
  
It was decidedly warm in her room so she opened the doors to allow the cool air in with the hopes that it would calm her. Her gas lamp flame blew in the breeze from the cold autumn air casting huge shadows along her walls. Breathing deeply, Christine strove to regain control of her body. Erik had once taught her that breathing deeply from the abdomen could calm her nerves before she went onstage. Funny that she should use the very technique he taught her to quiet her response to his kiss!  
  
Thinking the wind was playing tricks on her, she ignored what she believed she heard from outside the balcony. It was the song that Erik had first sung to her when he revealed himself as her Angel of Music so long ago. Alertly, her head came up. No one could possibly know that song but... Rising, she ran to the balcony, heedless of the cold and peered into the darkness over the stone railing.  
  
"Christine."  
  
Looking below her, she saw Erik standing with his cape billowing behind him. He looked rakishly tempting standing there below her. He gazed up at her and apologized. "I did not wish to leave you that way but I feel it is somewhat safer for us to say adieu if I am down here."  
  
She grinned, both at him and at the notion that Erik would seek safety from her.  
  
"Now I feel like Juliet looking over shoulder in case her nurse should appear!" Christine replied laughingly. Her heart thrilled that he had returned.  
  
Erik felt that he must surely be dreaming as he gorged himself on the sight of her. Her long hair was down, blowing in the breeze. The opaque nightgown she wore whipped around her ferociously. Such ethereal torture. "Christine, you must get inside. You'll catch a chill." he called out.  
  
Brazenly, she retorted, "Monsieur, I could use a good chill about now, thank you." Erik's heart stopped and he had the insane urge to climb up her balcony. His thoughts made him feel foolish. Yet, she had confirmed his greatest hope to him. He had not repelled her with his ardor. The thought was heady and incited his desire anew.  
  
"I must go." he ruefully told her. 'I must' he repeated to his disobedient body sternly. Christine decided her best response would be to remain speechless. The fact could not be denied that she did not want him to leave but to come to her and to her bed.  
  
She continued to look down at him vaguely grasping that her toes were going to freeze but not concerned. As far below as he was from her, she could perceive the exquisite tension in his posture. She felt her insides tighten in response to his unspoken promises. No words passed between them and no words were needed.  
  
As he had gestured to her previously, Christine placed her fingertips to her lips to blow him a kiss. Teasingly, his arm shot out to grab her kiss and he then placed his hand over his heart. The simple, yet poignant, gesture touched her deeply.  
  
"Go inside!" he called to her, concerned about the cold but quite willing to stand there the entire night looking upon her. "I don't want to!" Christine replied. "Make me a promise and I will go in!"  
  
"Anything." He answered, meaning it with all his heart. He knew for the first time in his life how a lovesick boy suffered as he looked up longingly at her.  
  
"Come play for me again. Tomorrow." She was obviously shivering. Erik vacillated for mere moments before deciding her health was more important than his unease.  
  
"Tomorrow!" he promised. Resolutely, he turned from her forcing one foot in front of the other. This time he did not look back - he could not.  
  
Treacherously close to frostbite, Erik firmly shut the door behind him, slamming it against the bitter wind. Removing his cloak and hat, he dropped both heedlessly onto a chair. Knowing he must warm himself, he built up the fire in the hearth and exhausted, sank into his armchair. Frigid though he was, he blessed the cold that numbed him temporarily. He pulled off his wet boots and tossed them aside.  
  
Now, he could leisurely replay each and every moment of the perfect day he had spent with his beloved. He sat with his chin in his hand and reflected. For a time, they had sincerely and easily enjoyed each other's company. He smiled at the memory of Christine's theatrics at the piano. He sobered at the fierce recollection of her body responding to him. In that moment, he could have made love to her right there. Erik knew she would have been unresisting, even willing. For those sweet, precious minutes, Christine had belonged to him. As completely as he belonged to her. His own trepidation had risen in him and he had broken their embrace. Whatever was he thinking - going with her into her home knowing they would be in complete solitude? Erik tried to get angry at the hold she still had over him and his own powerlessness over it. Oh, his fear that she would once again abandon him prodded his consciousness. Despite the danger, he knew that he was helpless against resisting her. Now that he had found her again, he was irreversibly hers. Shoving such depressing thoughts away, he determined to relive the flawless day again in his mind. 


	6. Reunion Chapter Six

Chapter Six  
  
Once more, he stood with Christine in his arms. Bending to kiss her, Erik marveled at the love shining from her sweet face. Finally, finally - she belonged to him and he reveled in the taste of her. Slowly, she moved from him, walking backwards to the stairs. His mind refused to grasp the implications of her seductive smile. Looking up the stairway, she said "I told you I could do it again, Raoul." Before he could react, the front door flew open and strong arms grabbed him from behind. Insane with rage, Erik looked up to see Christine climbing the stairs to Raoul. 'I'll kill her! I'll kill them both!' pounded through his brain as he struggled frantically to break free. She had betrayed him yet again. He leaned his head back, shrieking in agony as his heart broke within him.  
  
Bolting up in his bed, it took him a full minute to realize he'd been asleep. Sweaty and gulping for air, he tried in confusion to calm the adrenaline rushing through his body. Needing to get away from the panic, he disentangled the sheets from himself and moved off the bed. He leaned one arm against the wall to get his bearings but could still feel the hysteria inside. Everything had come rushing back in that nightmare - the recollection of when she had last kissed him before destroying him. As Erik remembered the anguish vividly, his muscles grew tense and fury overrode his fear. How could he have forgotten? Christine had practically killed him with her childish, wavering affections. She had stolen away with her handsome young man leaving him alone to a murderous mob. All she had to do was smile up at him once more and he begged for her attentions like an adoring puppy. Yet, he had allowed it; no, welcomed it. Charming, cruel Christine. Visions of his nightmare danced before his eyes and he smashed his fist into the plaster wall.  
  
Sighing loudly, Christine drifted towards the music room allowing her cloak and gloves to fall where they may. It was Sunday and she'd just returned from church. Erik had not come to her the entire week. She had waited for him with anticipation, knowing well what would likely take place when they were alone again. Her hunger for him astonished her. Hot, graphic images of the two of them winded their way into her mind; at times, stopping her in her tracks. Nothing would ever be ordinary with Erik. His ardent love making or his atrocious temper would not consent to tediousness. The very aura surrounding him crackled. Christine wondered if he had any idea of the stimulating sensations he incited in her.  
  
By the time Wednesday came around, she was indignant at his absence and responded by being terse with her servants. No, she did not want some tea and yes, she preferred to be alone! Angry and hurt, she sulked for several hours attempting to determine the cause of his disappearance. By Friday, she worried excessively for him and convinced herself he was ill or worse. If she had known where he lived, she would have gone there in haste.  
  
Sitting at the piano, she brushed the keys he had touched with her fingertips. Sadly, she pondered whether she would ever see him again.  
  
Cursing aloud, he turned his docile mare down through the iron gates. Erik hated himself, loathed the weakness that was his worship for Christine. Disgustingly, he had attended Mass again today. Promising himself that he would only listen to her sing and go home, here he was at her door once again.  
  
It had been a long week and he had worked unceasingly through Friday. His partner, Robert, had long ago accepted Erik's idiosyncrasies. So when the dark figure arrived early in the week with stacks of plans, he knowingly nodded. "Genius burns, eh, Erik?" he smirked as he poured both of them a brandy. Ignoring the threatening look he received in answer, Robert inquired, "Have you slept at all?" Accepting the brandy but refusing to sit, Erik grumbled in response.  
  
"Erik, I have told you. I don't need so many of these drawings in advance. It is not necessary to kill yourself over this commission. You are planning much quicker than my men can build." Robert sighed.  
  
"Perhaps the management should insist on more industrious employees in order to keep up." Erik jeered.  
  
Laughing easily, Robert refused to be challenged. He was much more easy- going than his intense colleague, but knowing that Erik's life had been far from comfortable, he never took offense. His genius was evident in his work and Robert was appreciative of his ability. Slapping him on the shoulder, Robert suggested Erik return home and go to sleep. Enigmatically, Erik had nodded his farewell and left abruptly.  
  
Erik stopped the mare with pressure from his legs. Damn it all to hell, he would not offer any excuses for his absence. Let her come to whatever conclusions she may.  
  
It had lightly snowed during the night. As Christine walked by her bedroom window, she unexpectedly saw the hoof prints in a trail towards her house. Before she knew it, her heart had flown with the prospect that it could be him. At that moment, she heard a knock at the door that sounded more like pounding. Soaring down the stairs, she paused momentarily to check her hair in the hallway mirror and tried to calm her heart. Composing herself as much as possible, she opened the door.  
  
Taking no notice of Erik's hostile stance, Christine smiled genuinely at him. "Erik, how nice to see you. Won't you come in?" Wisely, she concluded he would tell her the trouble in his own time. He stormed past her with unleashed antagonism and she bowed her head, grateful that he had come to her at last - even in anger. "Would you like me to show you the stables for your horse?" she offered as though nothing were amiss.  
  
"I've already situated her there." Erik said roughly. Unable to stand her indulgence of his black mood, he turned on his heel and strode toward the music room. Christine was relieved, hoping he would play out his wrath as he used to when she visited him below the Opera. She followed taking a deep breath to help her weather his emotion.  
  
Erik stood unmoving at the windows when she entered. Without looking her way, he stated flatly, "It pierces to wait for someone who has promised to return, no?"  
  
"Is that what this was about, Erik?" Christine asked in disbelief. "You were punishing me?"  
  
Laughing quietly, he retorted, "No, Christine. I have been on the receiving end of your punishments far too many times. I would not be so spiteful."  
  
"Erik, what is the matter?" she said softly. "You do realize I was but a child when I left you."  
  
Turning to interrupt her with malice in his eyes, he stared at her in contempt. "Don't insult my intelligence, Madame. You were not such a child. You went willingly into the arms of that boy! You made a conscious choice. Tell me, you knew then that you would marry him, did you not? After all, I had the privilege of overhearing you pledge your devotion on the roof of the Opera, do you remember that?"  
  
Recognizing the furious anger she had seen years ago, Christine remained silent in the face of his accusations. So that was it, then, her betrayal of him - the cause of his seething resentment. She had to compel herself to meet his gaze although she said nothing. Knowing he had every right to express these feelings, she inwardly braced herself.  
  
"Come, Christine. Show me your tears of repentance. Give me your logical explanation for I am certain you have one ready." he scoffed sarcastically.  
  
Mutely, she accepted his fury with dry eyes. Only after he had turned away from her once more did she have courage to delicately whisper, "I am sorry, Erik." He rounded on her sharply.  
  
"Sorry? Yes, sorry that you are now quite alone again, hmmm, Christine? Shall your faithful Angel rescue you once more until something better comes along?" he taunted mercilessly.  
  
Giving way, Christine choked, "That was cruel."  
  
"Don't speak to me of cruelty, Christine. You are the master of the art. Don't you dare speak to me of cruelty after the brutality you so sweetly imparted to me!" he roared.  
  
Watching each other carefully, they stood unmoving. Christine broke the unspoken challenge and went to sit on the sofa. Erik was swiftly becoming ashamed of his hasty intrusion especially in the face of her composure to his outburst. For several minutes, neither of them spoke but allowed the swirling allegations to settle.  
  
"Erik, what can I say to you? When I left you, I was so scared of you. I knew you had murdered and the passion I saw in you, I mistook for rage. Whether you wish to hear it or not, Erik, I was young and terribly inexperienced. You were so far beyond me in many areas that I was very intimidated in your presence. The regard you had for me both excited and terrified me. Raoul took the decision out of my hands and in my immaturity, I was grateful. He was the safe option that I chose in my innocence. I never forgot you, Erik. Not for one day. I cannot erase the past for you, but I can offer myself, now." Finished, she gazed down at her clasped hands. She had laid bare her heart. Standing toward the wall with her arms crossed, the taut strain enveloped both of them while each waited.  
  
Convicted by her sincerity, he decided it best to put distance between them so they would each have time to think. Rational thought escaped him when she was in his vicinity.  
  
But he would give her something to reflect upon.  
  
Ominously, Erik moved to stand behind her. His hands found her waist and held her firmly. In a chilling whisper next to her ear, he promised her, "Think carefully, my love. For when I take you, you will belong to me. I'll not allow you to leave me again." Christine shivered at the menace in his tone and, noting her reaction, he laughed softly. "Do not consider toying with me, my dear. I am afraid I will lose concern for your virtuous safety in my presence." Kissing her neck lightly, he then turned her in his arms. Without giving her time to glance at him, his lips swooped down and possessed her. Disregarding her preferences, this kiss was totally selfish. Erik did not permit her to catch her breath but savagely continued to show her what she would be getting herself into with her suggestions. He pushed her against the wall and pressed himself full against her. The appropriateness of their bodies together astounded both Christine and Erik. He had not counted on her response as her arms grasped at him as if she could not get him close enough. Refusing to allow his heart to melt, he focused on his vicious lust for her. Erik's hands sought her breasts and he heard her moan in her throat even as he kissed her. His pulse thundered in his ears as he handled her firmly. Madness twisted in him reminding him that this was to give her a taste of his ardor. Brutally, he stopped their passionate urgency and he stood breathing heavily observing her under half-closed eyes.  
  
Christine collapsed against the wall taking in the terrifying, burning man before her. At no time had she seen Erik's desire for her more naked in his expression. It appeared he would shatter from the tension surrounding them as they remain motionless.  
  
Boring into to her very soul, he snarled, "Think carefully. You have one week." Then, he left her. 


	7. Reunion Chapter Seven

Another week passed with ruthless slowness. Torn between wanting to run to Christine and dreading that her response would destroy him, Erik suffered intolerably. Uncertainty was the hardest penance. He was not sufficiently assured of her affection, especially after he lost his temper in front of her. Knowing that Christine's decision had the power to either set him free or ruin him, Erik cursed himself for forcing her hand. Standing at his window, he looked unseeingly at the darkness. Raking his hands through his hair, he wished he could undo the explosion of fury he'd released in her presence. In thinking of her calm conduct in the face of his anger, Christine's honest remarks stung him. She had been right; regardless of how much the memory pained him, she had been young. He had known even then that he overwhelmed her. Desperate to make her see the man behind his monstrous face, he had inundated her with his passionate love.  
  
Suddenly, he understood he had fulfilled his greatest aspiration. He saw clearly that Christine had indeed seen beyond his face. It was obvious in her receptive kiss, her touch and the ease with which she looked at him. Awaiting the beginning of the week, he could only hope that she would condone his behavior. When he reminded himself of her previous choice, he felt sickened.  
  
Dejectedly, Erik resigned himself to sleeplessness. God, how would he deal with the pain if she rejected him again? What had he done?  
  
Appropriately, Sunday dawned dark and stormy. The light snow flurried to the ground daintily but foretold of more to come. Erik purposely did not go to the cathedral that morning. He would wait until the afternoon to call upon Christine. Disturbed by trepidation, he tried to play but even music could not console him. Before leaving to go to her, he attempted to calm his nerves by drinking a stiff brandy. Ultimately, he could wait no longer. The time had come.  
  
After stabling his horse, Erik made his way through snow with his head down. Knowing how a criminal must feel going to his death, he walked slowly. All of a sudden, Christine's voice rang out in the stillness.  
  
"Hello Erik! Would you mind showing yourself inside? I foolishly twisted my ankle but I'll be down momentarily." Christine stood on the balcony in her cloak looking down at him.  
  
Immediately concerned, Erik questioned her, "What happened? Are you hurt badly?"  
  
"No I don't believe so. Just give me a few minutes." She answered evasively.  
  
Anxious now, Erik hurried through the door without stopping to remove his hat or cloak. He purposely climbed the stairs two at a time until he reached the top. "Christine, where are you?" he called out, unsure which room was hers.  
  
"I'm in the last room down the hall." He could hear the angst in her voice.  
  
Striding down the hall, he entered her room but he did not see her immediately. As the door shut behind him, he spun but stopped short at what he saw.  
  
Christine stood beside the closed door in a very transparent, white robe that left very little to the imagination. She blushed violently while she said, "I am sorry to deceive you, Erik. But I wanted you to be aware of my answer right away."  
  
Unbelieving, he stared at her. Her perfume reached him as he gazed at her from head to foot. Her hair was down curling riotously almost to her waist. Her gossamer robe was meant more to tantalize than to warm and the view of her body beneath it jarred him. Gradually, he became aware that she had lit candles strategically placed around her room.  
  
He had literally walked into a seduction. His seduction.  
  
Flabbergasted and almost light-headed with relief, Erik turned his back and walked toward her window. He needed a minute to realize that she was not injured but also that she wanted him. Leaning with both arms on the window casing, he stood stock still.  
  
Christine incorrectly interpreted his actions to mean he was still upset with her. "Erik, please. I could not stand to exchange pleasantries with you in my parlor when I have waited the entire week to love you. I felt we had waited long enough." she entreated carefully.  
  
Almost menacingly, he whirled and ordered brusquely, "Tell me that you want me, Christine."  
  
"Oh, Erik, I want you so desperately.."  
  
His eyes on her powerfully, he asked her in a low, feral tone, "Want me to do what, Christine?"  
  
Weak from longing and his ardent stare, she implored him, "Erik, I want you to make love to me. Please..I love you." Trembling from head to foot, she waited as an eternity elapsed.  
  
Stealthily, he came toward her with a ferocious grace which belied the throbbing desire darkening his vision. Still several paces from her, Erik paused, his eyes raping her own. So softly she could barely hear him, he murmured hypnotically, "This is the point of no return, Christine. Make your choice."  
  
Her chin went up swiftly as she returned his stare with all her need for him shown without shame. "No, Erik. That point was passed long ago. This is merely consummation of what our hearts knew the second your hand touched mine."  
  
His mind cleared momentarily within the clarity of her statement. A rush of the familiar fear flickered inside him and must have shown on his face. Thinking he meant to refuse her, Christine gave in to tears of pure frustration. "Erik, if you don't take me now, I will die. Must I beg you?"  
  
Fixing his glare upon her again, he recognized the pain raging within her. Erik watched her grapple with an agony she herself had meted out to him on more than several occasions. Unable to allow it for another moment, he flew to her with a cry. Hungrily, he devoured her lips, ravishing her mouth as she held on to him for dear life. Pressing her closely to him with one strong arm, his other hand reached inside her flimsy robe and he gasped at the satin which was her skin. Longing nearly crushed him as he lifted her in his arms. Not once separating their mouths, he laid her on the bed and tore her robe from her. Smoothly, Erik gently ended their kiss and stood over her.  
  
Christine should have been disconcerted by the forcefulness of his gaze as he looked upon her nudity, but instead, it made her despair for his touch. Refusing to be rushed, Erik stood and drank in the sight before him. In his thoughts of her, he had not imagined such splendor. Fantasy paled glaringly beside this reality. Hardly daring to believe, he went down on his knees as though it were a holy moment. Reaching out, his hand lightly grazed her from her face to her toes in one long, continuous movement. He watched in fascination as Christine gripped the bed sheets in order to remain still allowing him to continue his leisurely adoration.  
  
Christine's breasts rose and fell in deep gasps for air but she could not get enough oxygen. If he did not kiss her soon, she would succumb to the dizziness that threatened her. As though reading her mind, Erik bent over her, slowly bringing his body to rest upon her. He had not yet removed his cloak and it covered them in a silky, black cocoon. Cautiously, Christine lifted both hands to tenderly remove his mask. Delight filled her as he permitted it. Unable to bear the fiery radiance in his dark eyes, she pulled him down to her.  
  
Rapidly, Erik was losing control as her kiss fueled the blaze searing him. His strong hands touched her everywhere at once getting acquainted with her body intimately. Pausing his hand, uncertain, he softly touched her most sensitive area. Christine intensified their kiss silently encouraging him. Almost immediately, she quivered in ecstasy underneath his hand. As her trembling subsided, he looked down at her and spoke one word.  
  
"Now."  
  
In a swiftness that startled her, he had removed his clothes and lay with his skin against her. She moaned, undone, and let her head fall back. Holding her face in his hand, Erik commanded hoarsely, "Look at me." Christine obeyed and met Erik's consuming, powerful eyes. For an instant, time halted. Very slowly, almost tentatively, he began to move. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he joined with her. Raggedly he whispered, "Christine, we truly are one at last." A great tear spilled from her eye and he caught it with his lips. For one more moment, their eyes met and every hurt, every pain, every sorrow mended as their bodies finally united the way their souls had done long ago. Unable to prolong his restraint, Erik plunged into her again and again. She sobbed his name and he was blinded by lust. Dimly, he was aware of her cries of bliss as she tightened around him. His last limit snapped as he gasped at the brilliance and drowned in her.  
  
Screaming from the pleasure and the pain, his body shuddered violently as the demons were exorcised at last.  
  
Christine held Erik's face to her breast as he sobbed against her skin. His cleansing tears ran down her sides, baptizing her in his forgiveness. She lovingly stroked his good cheek and instinctively let him heal. "My Angel, my Angel." she whispered repeatedly and in reply Erik tightened his arms around her. Tears wet her face as her heart attempted to comprehend the magnificence of what they had just shared. As fulfilling as their coming together had been physically, it was the merging of their souls that rocked her. Nearly a half hour later, his breathing was returning to normal and she felt him relax in exhaustion. Savoring the sweet aftermath, overwhelmed but content, they both slept holding tightly to the other. 


	8. Reunion Chapter Eight

[Author's Note: Obviously, this tale changes the ending of Christine and Erik's love story. I have attempted to keep them in character, however, kindly remember that love does indeed change us. Erik may seem slightly more carefree than before he was confident of Christine's love. With all the mystery and allure of our Erik, we are honored to witness his first reciprocal love. I beg the reader's indulgence in this chapter that transitions their relationship and indulges Erik's happiness. Thank you.]  
  
Outside the falling snow lightly blew against the window. The only light was from a gas lamp on the dresser. Candles had melted down long ago darkening the room as well as forming a sheltered retreat. Nevertheless, it was impossible to discern if it was day or night.  
  
Not that it mattered, Erik mused with satisfaction. Christine was curled up next to him cozily as he held her reverently. He could not remember a time he had lain in bed lazily, but then, he had never woken with her in his arms before. The unbelievable experience still astounded his senses. Making love to Christine was all things he had envisioned, yet more dazzling was the extraordinary love that flowed between them. Erik felt sufficiently euphoric and rejoiced peacefully. Christine slept securely in the circle of his arms. At last, feeling her beginning to stir, he softly hummed a song of love.  
  
Christine awoke smiling with her face against his chest. Languidly, she refused to move delighting in his presence. She stroked the soft, dark hair on his chest and listened to his deep voice. "You're real." she mumbled presently.  
  
"My love." Erik responded in a relaxed voice just as enthralling but seemed lighter somehow.  
  
"I don't want to move." Christine lazily drew circles on his chest with her finger.  
  
"Good." He squeezed her closer to him and she threw her leg over his. Basking in the glow, they simply held each other.  
  
"Christine. You have quite spoiled me. I will never wake again without wanting you beside me." he said into her hair.  
  
Radiant, she looked up and met his eyes lovingly. "And you never shall wake without me next to you."  
  
An indecipherable look passed over his face and he lifted her chin to kiss her lips. As they kissed, they sealed the unspoken bond made between them. Christine burrowed closer to Erik as he signed in total contentment. He rubbed her lower back certain he would never tire of touching her.  
  
Half to himself, Erik whispered, "I must be dreaming and yet I hope never to wake."  
  
Christine arched an eyebrow, questioning, "Well, then, monsieur, how shall I prove to you that you are indeed awake?" Not missing the meaning in her eyes, Erik's need for her built inside him.  
  
He had to inquire of her, "Did I hurt you, Christine?" He refused to be the cause of any discomfort to her.  
  
She shook her head as her face reflected the truth of her words. "I've never experienced anything like that." she told him honesty. Placing her cheek against his chest once more, she happily just listened to him breathe.  
  
After a time, Christine's head came up abruptly and when Erik glimpsed down, her face was crimson even in the lamp light. "Christine?", he inquired when she would not meet his gaze. Teasing her, he chided, "Come, my dear. Surely you would not blush in shyness after what we bestowed upon each other. What is this maidenly modesty stealing up in you?"  
  
Christine looked away momentarily. Catching her expression, she appeared extremely embarrassed. Amused, Erik lay back on the pillow with one hand behind his head. "What is the matter, my sweet? A delayed reaction?"  
  
"Erik, I must.....I mean........" she stuttered. Unable to meet his smile, she glanced away again. Tightly, she asked him, "Erik, what is your last name, my love?"  
  
Christine felt the rumble before it belted out of him. Erik threw his head back and roared with laughter. Even more abashed now, Christine felt foolish but was very ashamed she knew him so intimately without knowledge of his last name. He continued to laugh until a tear wet his cheek. Despite her chagrin, Christine reveled in the sound of his deep, musical laughter. She had never before heard him laugh so heartily.  
  
Wiping his eyes and attempting to sober himself, Erik continued to chuckle uncontrollably. "I do apologize, my dear. That was very, ah, entertaining."  
  
Pretending to be indignant, Christine pleaded with him, "Oh, Erik, do be serious. It is atrocious that we have been so intimate and I don't know such a simple detail about you."  
  
Laughing briefly once more, Erik said, "Yes, I do suppose that would be the natural order of such things."  
  
Christine felt ridiculous. "Now, tell me. Straight away."  
  
Successfully controlling himself, Erik gazed at her with affection and said, "Lenoire, my sweet."  
  
"Lenoire." She rolled the word off her tongue. She attempted, "Christine Lenoire.....well, I do suppose we must make it legal then."  
  
Once more, Erik's low-toned, harmonious laughter resounded off the walls of her bedroom. Irrepressibly he laughed, covering his eyes with his arm. Poor Christine. He knew he was distressing her but it could not be contained.  
  
Ignoring his mirth, she explained "I was merely thinking aloud, my love." At his confused mien, she continued, "After what we have extended to each other, I feel as though our vows have been exchanged. I already feel bonded to you - entirely yours. And, as I have no intention of being without you again, logically, we must be married."  
  
"Logically." Erik asserted solemnly.  
  
At once, he was in earnest, moving to put them face to face. Whispering passionately, he beseeched her, "I am so unworthy of you, my dear. If you would do me the ultimate honor of willingly becoming my......my wife, I will strive to make you happy. I have always loved you, Christine, even before we met. My soul was set apart only for you and I will treasure you eternally."  
  
Gravely, Erik breathed, "Christine, marry me. Will you?"  
  
Weeping, she took his face in her hands spoke words that made his heart fill to bursting, "Yes, Erik, I will be your wife."  
  
Closing his eyes, he yielded to the acute sweetness of her reply. Touching her lips to his, she kissed him with all the love in her soul. Erik seized her to him with a devotion that electrified her. Wanting him again, she responded eagerly and whimpered when he pulled away.  
  
Huskily, he said with his chin bowed, "I never believed this would actually happen." Writhing deliberately underneath him, Christine lifted her head to kiss him with exhilaration. "I love you so. Erik, will you be my husband?" she said into his lips. Undone, he answered her in the deepest, most tender way he knew. 


	9. Reunion Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine  
  
Temporarily appeased, Erik and Christine lay relaxed in the darkness. Night had fallen while they had loved. Lying slightly apart from each other, their hands entwined between them.  
  
Propping himself on his elbow, Erik's hands gracefully caressed her soft, damp skin. "Christine, I do not know how I shall find the strength to leave."  
  
Fearful, she sat up and said, "Whatever do you mean?"  
  
"I must away before daybreak. I will not have your servants find you in bed with a man - even if he is your betrothed." Erik declared.  
  
"My betrothed...." repeated Christine, tingling deliciously with the notion.  
  
"Yes, my love." Erik bent and kissed her palm.  
  
"I am not concerned in the slightest what anyone may think of us. I'll not have us separated for another week until the house is empty once more." She announced firmly.  
  
Erik voiced the idea he had been thinking of for some time, "Come home with me." His alluring murmur hypnotized Christine with its promise.  
  
"I will go with you anywhere you wish, Erik." she answered meaningfully.  
  
Reluctantly, they left the warm bed and began to dress. After lighting her lamp, she sat before her mirror brushing the tangles out of her long, dark hair. Erik suddenly appeared behind her completely dressed and wearing his mask. "Allow me." he requested. She handed her hairbrush to him and Erik very capably brushed her curls into order. "I have always wanted to comb your ravishing hair." he confided to her.  
  
"Whenever you wish, my darling." she promised.  
  
Christine hurriedly packed a bag. She was impatient to see his home. Writing her servants a note explaining she must visit a relative and would be away several days, she departed with Erik.  
  
The night seemed under a enchanted spell as they walked hand in hand towards the stables. Stars twinkled brilliantly and their breath puffed into little clouds. Snow covered the world in sparkling white and Christine imagined them the only two people on the earth.  
  
Erik first easily lifted Christine onto his horse's back and mounted elegantly behind her. The cold was exhilarating even though it penetrated her cloak. Seeing her shiver, Erik merely adjusted his own cloak so that it enclosed the both of them.  
  
Snuggled warmly against Erik, Christine closed her eyes aware of his every movement. He kept one arm around her waist firmly and she rested completely secure in his embrace. Neither of them spoke but the silence was comfortable and fitting in the enchanting moonlight. Eventually, Erik drew the mare to a halt. Squeezing her lightly, Erik whispered softly, "Christine, we're home."  
  
She did not realize she had fallen asleep in his arms. The sound of the horse's hooves crunching in the snow and Erik's comfortable warmth had lulled her to sleep. Yawning, she looked around drowsily. Hazily aware of the cottage in front of them, she leaned once more into Erik's closeness.  
  
"Come, my Sleeping Beauty. You are quite exhausted." Erik easily swung off the horse's back and gathered Christine into his arms. Entering the door, he pushed it shut with his boot. She was almost dozing again when he laid her upon his bed. Knowing he must see to his horse, he covered her with care and left briefly.  
  
Coming back inside and shaking off the cold, Erik built the fire up in the hearth in addition to removing his cloak. Going back into his room, he beheld Christine fast asleep in the light of a single candle. Christine was truly here, willingly in his bed, and she had consented to be his bride. It was too much to comprehend. Positive that he would awaken soon, Erik determined to enjoy the dream while it lasted. Gingerly, he lifted the coverlet and moved next to her. Even in sleep, she nestled close to him.  
  
Erik fell asleep with a smile on his face and holding his Christine.  
  
While touring Erik's home the next day, Christine found that he had appointed his home elegantly. It was large enough to be comfortable and his selection of furniture was impeccable. Returning to his bedroom, Christine was surprised to find that the furniture in Erik's room was the same she had used below the Opera. Shrugging, Erik told her it had made the pieces that much more precious to him. He had kept every item that had been hers, including several dresses which she recognized in the armoire. Touched that he had thought of her so fondly after all that had occurred between them, her heart softened with devotion.  
  
Over the next few days, they rediscovered the joy of each other's company. Talking for hours at a time along with taking walks for as long as they could stand the cold, the two settled into an easy intimacy.  
  
Erik and Christine both made a valiant effort to pursue other activities besides lovemaking but invariably found themselves in bed most afternoons. Erik, so new to the joys of love, could not get enough of Christine. Several times during the day, as he taught her chess or they read in front of the hearth, a rigid, meaningful silence would descend upon them. The moment they made eye contact at such times, it was as if they were drawn physically to each other by an outside force. Christine was amazed at Erik's tireless stamina along with his endless desire for her. If anything, his need for her seemed to be increasing instead of waning. Erik made love to her with the intensity and frequency of a much younger man than his years. She adored gratifying him cognizant that each union cemented their attachment. The potency of his touch ignited a hot fire throughout her. She had never known such intense desire during her previous experience. The mesmerizing hypnotism of his voice was now executed through his sensual, inquiring hands. He would not allow her instinctive modesty to deter him. Delicately, he would pry away her uncertainty; insistent upon removing any barriers between them. Erik aroused her in such a way that her response to him shocked her. At times, she reacted as though she were crazed with need for him.  
  
One morning, Erik came to her in the drawing room. She had her feet tucked underneath her as she sat mending one of his shirts that he had ripped carelessly. Christine looked the picture of content domesticity sitting in his chair before the fire. Although he would have heedlessly discarded the shirt, the sweetness of her wifely gesture moved him. Hearing him enter, she looked up expectantly. She smiled in greeting as he knelt before her. "My beloved, we need to leave the house today."  
  
Interested, she replied, "Where are we going, Erik?"  
  
Intently, he caught her gaze and announced softly, "I believe it is time to seek out a priest, my dear."  
  
"Erik." Her face shown with joy and love for him. Kissing him soundly on the lips, she returned, "I cannot believe I will finally belong to you. You have made me so very happy, my Angel. But we won't be able to be married until the banns are posted."  
  
He nodded, "All the more reason to leave with haste. We must also purchase a ring for you."  
  
"Yes! Oh Erik, I do so want to wear your ring!" Christine replied eagerly.  
  
Once in town, Christine assured Erik that the priest at St. Mary's Cathedral where she sang would consent to wed them. Erik was uneasy at the prospect of meeting with clergy but knew it was a necessity. As she had promised, Father Signone was delighted at the news of Christine's pending marriage. Taken aback somewhat by Erik's mask and aloof demeanor, he directed his questions mainly to Christine. When asked about the date of the wedding, it was decided the ceremony would take place in two weeks time.  
  
Leaving the church, Christine perceived her Erik's palatable relief. Appreciating the discomfort he willingly endured, she asked him if there was anyone he would like to invite to their wedding. Not having considered it, Erik said he would think on it but that he did not believe so. When he inquired the same of her, she shook her head negatively. She told him that when she pledged her life to his, the only person she wanted before her was himself. Assuring her that would be a certainty, he kissed her hand. "No one in attendance would ever understand how far we've had to come to be man and wife." she asserted.  
  
Pausing before her dressmaker's shop, Christine coyly told him she needed to look into a matter alone. Stirred with knowledge that she would be planning a dress to wear when she became his bride, he agreed.  
  
After he left her, Erik went to several jewelers but coolly rejected different stones and bands shown to him. Checking the time and realizing he would have to collect Christine shortly, he attempted one more jeweler. It was there that he found the perfect ring for his bride; a dainty, flawless blue sapphire to match her eyes which was surrounded by brilliant, superb diamonds in a band of pure gold. Erik did not even blink when told the price; only the finest would do for his Christine. Excited by the sale, the oily, chubby jeweler praised Erik's exceptional taste and assured him that his betrothed would prize such a ring.  
  
The jeweler's wife, matching her husband in girth, boxed the ring while looking askance at the masked gentleman before her. The glance did not insult Erik as it might have at one time. Strangely, he found he was not at all disturbed. Momentarily lost in thought, he recognized that Christine's complete acceptance of him, along with her professed love, was totally sufficient. He needed no other approval or endorsement as long as she loved him. Unconsciously, Erik did something he had never done before when met with prying looks. Thinking of Christine's tenderness, he glanced at the inquisitive woman who was rudely peeking up at him again - and he smiled at her. Hesitating for only a moment, the woman unexpectedly returned his smile and shyly handed him the parcel. Erik took it from her and turned to leave. The pleased jeweler called out his best wishes for a joyous marriage and happiness to Erik's wife.  
  
'His wife' - the thought was inconceivable as Erik savored it. Joyously mindful of the boxed ring in his pocket, his step hastened to meet Christine. Upon seeing him, she exited the shop with a secretive but elated expression.  
  
Of one accord, they headed toward home spurred by anticipation. 


	10. Reunion Chapter Ten

Erik stood alone outside his residence in the early morning. Chilling, merciless winds blew yet he appeared not to notice. He watched a doe and her fawn leap across the foggy, snow covered field toward the shelter of the forest.  
  
There was a precarious subject he must broach to Christine. Ambiguous about how to initiate the conversation, Erik was concerned it would trouble her. After considering several options, he had decided that he would not live at her chateau. Foolish or not, he refused to live in the shadow of that boy. Regardless, he would allow Christine to determine where she would like to reside and if necessary, he would purchase a new home for her. The two of them must begin anew without any ghosts. Perversely, Erik found it most ironic that he and Raoul had switched functions - he would now be Christine's husband while Raoul was now the ghost.  
  
Intuitively, Erik twisted and saw her making her way toward him. Smiling broadly, he opened his cloak to enfold her and keep her from being chilled. Exhaling loudly, Christine leaned against him watching her breath cloud in the wintry air.  
  
Facing him, she surprised him by asking, "What is on your mind, Erik?"  
  
Chuckling, he teased, "Since when have you become so insightful, my girl?"  
  
Reaching behind his neck to pull him down to her lips, she erased all thoughts from his mind with the allure of her kiss. Resolutely, Erik made to convey her back to bed but she protested and stood stubbornly while he tugged her arm. She grinned when she met the unmistakable, erotic gleam in his eyes. "Erik, do you never get tired of lying with me?"  
  
He snorted in derision, not even dignifying her with a response. Pulling Christine again in his arms, Erik endeavored tenaciously to seduce her back into the house. Lightly tasting her throat with his warm tongue, he devoured her skin until she shivered deliciously under his persistent mouth. Tempted sorely, but refusing his attentions, she insisted he discuss his thoughts.  
  
Sighing in disappointment, Erik relented, "My dear, I have to speak with you about a very sensitive topic. Never would I wish to torment you with melancholy recollections, but I am afraid I cannot dwell in your home after we are wed."  
  
Perplexed, Christine replied, "Erik, I would never expect you to remain in that house with me. I believed that it was understood we would live here."  
  
"My love, this is not nearly as grand as the home you currently occupy. I want you to be kept in the luxury to which you are accustomed. Money is not at issue."  
  
Beguilingly, Christine retorted, "The only luxury I could never live without is your close embrace, Erik. The rest means nothing to me. In fact, I would be truly happy here, but the decision is entirely yours. After all, you must provide a home for me now."  
  
At no time since their first night had Erik failed to quake internally from her declarations of love and trust.  
  
Breathing deeply, he gazed pointedly down to her, "Now will you come inside?"  
  
"Erik, truly, we must discontinue lying abed the entire day." She blushed becomingly, still unused to his thorough fascination with her.  
  
"Why?" he rejoined directly with an extraordinary logic.  
  
Initially startled, Christine met his fervent gaze which guaranteed her satisfaction should she capitulate. "Why, indeed......" she yanked at his arm to draw him into the house and back to their bed.  
  
Erik observed as she left their bed and, nude, stretched invigoratingly. Her thick hair was disheveled and as she extended her arms upwards, the curls reached low beyond her hips. God, she was magnificent. He knew now he would never grow used to her appearance. He at no time wearied of admiring her with intrigue; her perfection pleased him mightily. Erik lay indolent, resting his hands behind his head as she bustled about the bedroom. Seeing her reach for her chemise, he sighed, "Christine, must you insist on wearing clothing the entire day?"  
  
She laughed at his despondency, "Perhaps you would have me running about the house naked day and night?" At his apparent rapture at the idea, she chuckled. Erik's gaze did not waver from her but she had grown used to his constant inspection. It didn't trouble her as she knew his eyes were feasting upon that which he had imagined unattainable. Sitting beside him on the bed, she turned her back to him so he could button her dress. Feeling him rise behind her, Christine squealed with consternation as his deft hands stole inside her dress. He laughed devilishly in her ear. Her face leaned back to his as she entreated, "Really, Erik, there are several things I need to do today."  
  
He agreed in a low tone, effectively compelling her, "Yes, there are many things to do today." Triumphantly, Erik sensed her beginning to yield when she immediately stood looking down at him in supplication.  
  
"Erik, I must return to my house. There are a great many details that have to be seen to before next week."  
  
Loathingly mindful that she was correct, he gave up and asked, "When do you need to go, Christine?"  
  
She was close to hopping back into bed at his sad consent. "I will leave today but I should be able to return in less than two days."  
  
Erik's head shot up angrily, "Two days!? Why must you be away so long?"  
  
In order to console him, Christine went to his arms. There was much she had to see to along with a personal errand that must be done privately.  
  
"I need to arrange for some of my belongings to be sent here. There are details to go over with servants and dealings which I alone can make. I am sorry, my love. You are more than welcome to accompany me." She stroked his arm reassuring him with her touch.  
  
"No. You are quite right. Only I do not know how I shall survive without you." He replied full of genuine sorrow.  
  
"Oh, my love, don't be downcast! I go to make preparations for us to never be apart again!" Christine was deeply distressed by his pain.  
  
Erik thoughtfully looked at her and replied, "Well, I suppose that might make up for your absence."  
  
She kissed him in silent gratitude and he signed, turning her so he could button her gown.  
  
He had seen her only as far her gate. Christine had known he would not come with her. An indifferent, detached air descended upon him as she sat before him on his horse. Sensible of his uneasiness at their impending separation, she understood and allowed him the distance. "I will miss you terribly, Erik. I will finish my tasks quickly and return to you as hastily as possible."  
  
Erik did not respond. Eventually, he conceded, "I will not breathe until I am with you again, Christine. Please do not delay."  
  
At the gate, he dismounted and reached his arms up to assist her. When she was on the ground, he did not remove his hands from her waist. Knowing his extreme fear at this moment, Christine moved to kiss him farewell. His hands found her hair and he grasped her head, kissing her in passionate desperation. Abruptly, he mounted his horse and galloped away before she could whisper adieu. Bereft, Christine watched him run from her and his dread she would not return to him. Would he ever feel secure in their love?  
  
The hours passed as Christine yearned for Erik. She had met confidentially with her favorite servants, Dominic and his wife, Catherine. The older couple had seen her through the worst weeks after Raoul's death. Managing everything for Christine in her raw grief, Catherine had hurt for her young, widowed mistress. When Christine shared her happy news, both of them were overly pleased for her. They loved Christine deeply and, not having been blessed with any children, had fancied her their adopted daughter. She asked them to be the witnesses at her marriage ceremony and also to move with her to her husband's home. They were elated to consent to her plans and Christine gratefully dictated a list of what she needed done. Dominic and Catherine had been there for her from the moment Raoul had brought her here as a young bride. She hoped Erik would not be unsettled by their presence.  
  
Following the bulk of her domestic tasks, Christine packed clothes and personal items that she needed. Handling an small, old case very carefully, she smiled at the gift she would present to her new husband. It belonged in no other hands except Erik's.  
  
Surveying her bedroom trying to determine if there were anything else, Christine knew she was prolonging the moment she dreaded. Going to her dresser, she retrieved the key and walked down the corridor. Hesitating with fear, trepidation and guilt, she stood staring at the door. Finally, she unlocked it and cautiously stepped inside. Lighting a candle, Christine's gazed clouded as she beheld the room that had been her late husband's. She had insisted it remain exactly as he had left it, only allowing servants in to clean. His presence was so strong that she shakily sat in the armchair beside his door.  
  
Memories flew in and out of her mind and she tried to grab at them. This was the room in which Raoul had slept and which she had come to at his invitations. This was also the bed in which he had lain that terrible afternoon succumbing to the weakness that could no longer be denied. He had not left the bed again. Christine had nursed him frantically; willing him back to health. Alas, despite her best efforts and several doctors, Raoul had died that beautiful spring morning.  
  
He had looked at her, rasping for breath and somehow, Christine had known. Setting down the towel she carried, she lay beside her husband watchful of his ebbing life. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she looked at the once robust, handsome man deteriorated to thin nothingness.  
  
Raoul smiled at her lovingly through his pain. "Thank you, Christine. Thank you for caring for me through this nightmare. I know how difficult it has been for you." His grating whisper tore at her heart and a sob escaped her.  
  
"There, there, Little Lotte. You will now have two guardian angels watching over you - your father and I."  
  
"Oh God, no. Raoul, please don't leave me. Please..." she cried pitifully.  
  
"You've made me the happiest man in the world, my dear wife. For the short years we had...." coughing uncontrollably, Raoul felt his spirit withdrawing. Before his eyes shut forever, he looked once more upon his beautiful Christine. "I will love you for all eternity. Don't grieve too long, Love. Be happy and be well." With that he tried to smile and died in her arms. Raoul..............................  
  
Recalling the devastating grief, Christine wiped her face that was again wet with tears. It had broke her heart when he had died. She never thought to love again.  
  
Standing emphatically, Christine knew what she had to do before she could marry Erik.  
  
More to come! 


	11. Reunion Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven  
  
Christine rode nervously down the steep hill, thankful for her horse's sure footing. There had been no sunshine that day and the clouds gloomily hung low. The late afternoon had grown increasingly cold making her long for Erik's warmth. But she was bundled up warmly and decided winter murkiness was appropriate for the melancholy trip.  
  
Unavoidably, her thoughts returned to Erik. After she left here, she'd be able to return to him freely, ready to be his bride. Christine was gratified that she had eluded her attentive servants and secreted away on her own. No one had any right to be there with her. Thoughts of Erik must be put aside. This was not his time.  
  
Steering the horse towards a hitching post, she dismounted and secured him. Christine rested her head against the saddle for a moment gathering her courage. This would not be easy. Purposefully, she squared her shoulders to face her unavoidable duty. She owed this to him at the very least.  
  
Mindful of the icy ground, Christine de Chagny trod across the cemetery. Her destination lay a distance from the wrought iron gate entrance. Deeply lost in memories, she recalled the first time she had met Raoul when they were but children. Her father had been commissioned to play at a soiree held at the de Chagny mansion. Christine had accompanied him with strict instructions to behave as a young lady. She was eight years old and pretty as a picture in her starched, stiff frock. Excited at the idea of being a guest at such a fairy castle, she stood shyly behind the servant's door watching her father play with pride. Daniel M. Daae' had been an accomplished musician with a talent that could have brought him comfortable fame had it not been for his little girl. She was unaware that her father sacrificed many of his own dreams for her welfare. After her mother had died, Daniel swore that Christine would have as normal a life as possible and that did not include traveling the globe as a musician.  
  
Christine remembered when Raoul craftily pulled her ribbon undoing her hair. She'd cried out in surprise and anger, chasing him as he laughingly ran from her wrath. As children, they had been quite ignorant of the social classes. After making Raoul beg her forgiveness, they had become fast friends.  
  
Over the years, they had seen each other on occasion. She affectionately remembered being thirteen at the shore when her bright, red scarf had flown into the ocean and she had wept. Raoul chivalrously braved the cold water to retrieve it for her and returned shivering but offering her the wet scarf. Something different had passed between them at that moment and she recalled feeling incredibly self-conscious for the first time in his presence.  
  
She had not seen Raoul again until the gala night at the Opera - her successful debut on the stage.  
  
Those memories and more drove her resolutely toward the large stone vault that housed Raoul's body. She gazed at his engraved name in grim wonder. Poor Raoul! Cheated out of life at so young an age! He had been a loving husband and granted her every wish, even permitting her to sing for church services, although he had not encouraged it. Other than her singing, there was little that Raoul would not have done for her. She missed him still, but not with the intense loneliness of earlier years.  
  
Looking up guiltily, she spoke into cold air, "I do not suppose you are too happy with me. Oh, Raoul, so much has happened." Pausing, Christine lowered her head and admitted faintly, "I've met Erik again, Raoul. I am sure you could not possibly understand. I was at the market when suddenly he was there and I was so glad to see him again. There was a good deal that was left unfinished between he and I."  
  
"We are going to be wed next week. I know that I could not hope to receive your blessing and I hope you do not feel I've betrayed you. It feels so right.........." she faltered.  
  
Christine was not conscious of the tears that were flowing down her face. Sobbing, she continued, "I will never forget our happy years, Raoul. I did truly love you. You'll always have a place in my heart. Please try to understand that Erik has always had a place there, too."  
  
She allowed herself to cry for many minutes, remembering. Ultimately, it was time to say goodbye. After calming herself, clearing her throat and looking around to be certain she was alone, Christine started to softly sing her goodbye to Raoul. Christine began to sing to him the song she had sung that night they were reunited at the Opera in Paris.  
  
"Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye." "Remember me, every so often, promise me you'll try."  
  
The lyrics were more heartfelt and meaningful than ever before and it took strict control to continue the Requiem.  
  
"Think of August when the trees were green, don't think about the way things might have been."  
  
Solemnly praying he would understand, she sang in veneration for what they had shared as man and wife. For she had loved Raoul, and moreover, would have continued to love him had death not parted them.  
  
"Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade, they have their seasons, So did we....but please promise me that sometime, You will think of me."  
  
Collapsing in a heap, Christine offered her late husband her farewell. Believing he had heard her, she stood and cried, "Adieu, my dear."  
  
Turning to leave, an abrupt breeze blew her hood back off her head and Christine fancied the wind kissing her airily. Smiling through her tears toward Heaven, she whispered, "Thank you, Raoul."  
  
Evening fell dully. In a furious mood, Erik labored at the plans for the museum in a strained dissatisfaction. Damn it, how could he reconcile these two dramatically different requests? A foyer so ostentatious should not be stuck against that pointless corridor which their client insisted upon to conceitedly display his own artwork. Overly annoyed, he ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. Roughly pushing the drawings off the table onto the floor, he strode to pour himself a drink. Knowing full well the reason for his foul mood, he obstinately downed two glasses of brandy in rapid succession. Erik hated the characteristic dismay ripping his insides to shreds. That ghastly, nagging notion that she would not return lacerated him. If she did not come back, he would hunt her down to kill her, then himself. With a roar of pure rage, Erik threw the decanter at the wall ruining an expensive tapestry. Cursing, he abandoned his tantrum and went to the piano. Playing viciously, Erik continued to entertain his dark conviction that she had again betrayed him. He continued to play until he was exhausted from emotion and brandy. Oblivious, he stripped his clothes from his body as he made his way to bed.  
  
Lying in the spot where Christine normally slept, Erik could still smell her scent on the pillow. He buried his face in it and wept.  
  
The gaslights still shone at the cottage and Christine's heart flew in anticipation. Urging her horse, she went to Erik's small stable quickly settling the horses for the night. Running towards the door, she entered winded. Quickly discerning that Erik was not in the parlor or the music room, a cold worry overtook her. It was much too early for him to be in bed. Stepping softly, Christine took a candle towards the bedroom. She stopped cold at his bedroom door, stunned by the site that greeted her eyes.  
  
Erik lay sleeping in the light of one candle and sprawled careless on the sheets. His scarred cheek was in shadow and rested upon the pillow. All she could see of his face was his unmarred cheek. Enraptured, she watched the flame play upon his handsome features. He slept nude, with the blanket just barely covering him from the waist down, and his one leg out from under the covers. Christine was stupefied as she stared at him. He looked stunning as he lay there in slumber. Taking in his relaxed face, the muscles in his strong arms, his broad chest rising and falling with his steady breaths, his lean length down to his masculine, athletic leg, Christine experienced a lust for him so strong she reeled from it. In this light, Erik looked absolutely perfect - as alluring as a Greek god. She rejoiced in the heady knowledge that he was hers.  
  
Casting off her clothes, Christine kept her eyes on his body. It was exciting to realize he had no idea she scrutinized him so brazenly. Sitting next to him, she caressed his cheek until he stirred. Sleepily, Erik murmured, "Christine......oh, Christine........" Even in repose, Erik clasped her to himself and began to make bold love to her with his tongue.  
  
They kissed as though they had been parted for years instead of a mere day. Holding her fast, Erik was drunk with the realization that she had returned to him. He consumed her mouth hotly, needing her more than ever. Unbeknownst to him, she discreetly stole her hand lower to touch him. His face registered a sizzling craving her caress inspired. Erik's hands went to Christine's face as cherished the taste of her.  
  
Keeping her hand around him, she explored his mouth with her tongue. A very womanly inclination to please him flowed throughout her. Hoping not to startle him, she rolled onto him and sat up. His face showed his rather confused awe, which liquefied into raw ecstasy as she began to move with him inside her. Erik's hands tightened on her hips keeping her pressed against him. Christine laid her hands against his shoulders and her hair brushed erotically against his chest. He completely lost himself in her movements relishing the exhilaration of their union yet again. Looking down at him, she marveled at his expression. His scarred cheek was still against the pillow so only his unmarred profile was visible to her. His countenance radiated urgent desire and the vision intoxicated her. She had never seen him so unguarded; mesmerized by his evident gratification, she determined that he would always remain in such delight. Erik had suffered enough at her hand. She stared fascinated by the sensuous movement of the well-developed muscles in his arms and chest. His breathing came heavier and before the current pulled him under, Erik's eyes opened and he panted, "Christine, I love you." Remembering that he had said those exact words to her when they parted in Paris, she closed her own eyes against a bittersweet ache of love. Aware of his strain, she began to move faster as he clutched her so hard she cried out. She gloried in the strength of his release and his long, sultry moan of satisfaction.  
  
Erik was breathing heavily as she leaned down to kiss him. Both of them were bathed in a light sweat and Christine moved to his side, entirely spent. While he attempted fill his lungs with air, Erik pulled away to stare down at her. "You astound me, Christine. I never imagined such, such....." he shook his head finding words insufficient.  
  
Fixing him with her eyes, she gaily replied, "Why, my fiancé', I do not believe I have ever seen you at a loss for words."  
  
He replied in a low, seductive whisper, "Ah, but I have never been made love to in such a way by you before, my Christine. Words would not do justice to the joy you give me."  
  
Pleased that she had fulfilled him, she rested her head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. 


	12. Reunion Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve  
  
The day had dawned. Unimaginable. Sunlight streamed through the window as the larks heralded the beginning of a new day. Their wedding day.  
  
Erik stared in utter stillness as the sun peeped over the horizon. He had been awake for some time now as he found he did not sleep well without Christine beside him. In a determined feminine manner that enchanted him, she had insisted it was bad luck for him to see her before their wedding and she would meet him at the cathedral. Downcast, Erik had did his best to keep her home but she had admirably resisted his advances. With a fraudulent demure tone, she asked him to escort her home, which he had done reluctantly. After he had threatened to climb up to her balcony when he left her, Christine had beseeched him. "Erik, darling, it is tradition. Don't scowl at me so, my love. It is only for one night. Think of it as your last night of freedom." She smiled at his irrational temperament.  
  
Holding her in a strong embrace, he whispered roughly, "I do not ever wish to be free of you, Christine. Ever. One night is an eternity without you."  
  
Acknowledging his honest appeal, she whispered back, "After this night, Erik Lenoire, I promise you that as long as I live, you will never be alone again."  
  
Grasping her closer, he hugged her to him ardently. Stepping back and looking down at her, he gave her a feeble smile. Erik touched her nose playfully with his fingertip and queried, "Promise?"  
  
Christine placed her hand sweetly over his heart, "I promise."  
  
He sighed, "Well, then, I must leave directly or I will surely compromise your chastity." Erik elegantly reached to kiss her hand in farewell and strode away.  
  
Now it was morning and he must prepare for their wedding. He softly laughed in wonderment, not totally believing it to be true.  
  
Catherine had never before seen Christine so nervous. Her young mistress worried herself relentlessly that each detail of her dress, her hair and her appearance be absolutely perfect. "Catherine, I must wear my hair down. I know it is not done but Erik simply loves my hair down so that is how I shall wear it."  
  
Catherine gave in and put her arm around Christine's shoulder in a motherly hug. "Child, you mustn't fret so. There could be no bride more beautiful than you shall be."  
  
Grasping Catherine's hand, Christine nervously prattled, "Oh, thank you, Catherine. Do forgive me if I am being cross. I apologize. I just want everything perfect for him. He deserves nothing less."  
  
Christine had, by that time, explained to her and Dominic that her husband- to-be wore a mask concealing a deformity. She carefully chose her words and instead of telling of his face, described Erik's boundless love for her. Christine did not wish them to be anxious on her behalf and knew that she had to clarify matters before they met him. She had talked long about his talents, dwelling on how he had instructed her. Relating that, had it not been for Erik, she would never have accomplished what she did. She silently begged them to understand for her sake, which they did. The two had never seen Christine as happy as she had been, even when she'd been married to the Vicomte, God rest his soul.  
  
It did pass through Catherine's mind that instead of Christine agonizing over her appearance, her groom was most fortunate that she was marrying him. Christine was a beautiful young woman, she thought proudly. In the beginning, after their talk with their young mistress, Catherine had expressed her doubts to her husband. She had heard that unfortunate persons who were deformed from birth had been branded with the mark of the devil. Dominic eventually exposed her foolishness for what it was and noted that Christine was supremely pleased with her choice.  
  
Now, Catherine answered the knock at the door where a maid handed her Christine's bridal gown. With tears gathering in her eyes, she turned toward her mistress holding the dress in outstretched arms so as not to wrinkle it.  
  
Christine arose touching the shimmering fabric as though she was not convinced it was genuine. She had chosen this gown because she thought it an excellent compromise. Knowing that she could not wear white as this was her second marriage, Christine had selected a gown of glistening gold fabric. It fit her arms and upper body like a second skin of golden lace but the skirt flowed becomingly with a medium length train behind her. Eschewing a veil, she'd decided upon a halo of tiny gold and white flowers mixed with greens and a small length of sheer, gold fabric reaching to her back. If she could not wear white as Erik's bride, she wanted to come to him as lovely as any princess in her finery.  
  
Christine looked over the dress at Catherine and they both laughed at the tears in each other's eyes. "Oh, I hope he likes it!" she breathed.  
  
Father Signone dutifully kissed his vestments in preparation for the wedding ceremony. Instructing the attending altar boy to begin lighting the candles, he heard the organist practicing the Ave'.  
  
The ceremony today would prove most unusual. A lady of Christine's social standing with virtually no guests in attendance. The image of the masked groom came to mind, inducing a shiver. Madame de Chagny had visited him privately earlier in the week asking Father Signone to avoid drawing any attention to her betrothed's strange appearance. Assuring her of his discretion, he now wondered again what lay behind the mask.  
  
"Father, the groom has arrived." the young altar boy whispered in awe. No doubt he had seen Monsieur Lenoire's mask and was perishing of curiosity.  
  
"Very good, Gregory. Now, the candles are lit and we are ready to begin?" Gregory nodded hastily.  
  
Erik paced up and down moodily in front of the altar as Gregory watched him in rapt fascination. "She was not coming", the insidious demon hissed in his ear. "Why should she? What could you possibly offer her?" Erik literally brushed away such destructive thoughts from his mind. He concentrated on the carpeting of the cathedral, its weaving pattern keeping him sane.  
  
Father Signone came out to see Erik lost in composed anguish. Smiling to himself, he approached the nervous husband-to-be. "My son, you are suffering the same torment I see in each groom before each wedding."  
  
Startled from his concentration, Erik looked up warily. "Father." he bowed gracefully.  
  
Holding out his hand toward the cautious young man, Father Signone said, "Erik Lenoire, is it?"  
  
Looking down at the outstretched hand and immediately cognizant of his tactlessness, Erik grasped it. "Yes."  
  
"Well, I dare say Christine will be most satisfied with her new husband." Father Signone took in the flawless, impeccable suit that Erik wore. It was a dove gray, almost silver in tone, complete with an overcoat with tails. He decided it suited Erik's imperial air.  
  
Another young altar boy came rushing in the side vestibule announcing loudly, "She's here, Father!"  
  
Panic suddenly struck Erik. What was he doing? He would ruin her life if he married her.  
  
Sensing his distress, Father Signone placed his hand upon Erik's shoulder feeling him tense noticeably. "My son, quiet yourself. You must be ready to receive your bride."  
  
Trembling, but making a drastic effort to conceal it, Erik inclined his head indicating he had heard.  
  
Unexplainably drawn in sympathy to this sober, dignified young man, Father Signone asked, "Are you all right, Erik?"  
  
Crushing the uncertainties plaguing him, Erik answered in a stronger voice than he imagined possible, "Yes, I am, Father. Thank you."  
  
Taking his place at the altar, Father Signone gestured for Erik to stand at his side. Erik stood stiffly beside him looking ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. The organist began to play softly as Erik felt ridiculously frightened.  
  
At the far end of the aisle, the main door opened allowing sunshine to issue through the entrance. Dominic entered and walked toward Erik with a smile of understanding. Grasping his shoulder briefly in masculine commiseration for the young groom, Dominic stood next to him and the three men gazed down the aisle awaiting the bride. 


	13. Reunion Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen  
  
Christine sat in the carriage watching Dominic go through the entrance of the church. She'd allowed Catherine and her husband to fill the silence on the ride here but she'd not heard a word. Christine was inexplicably anxious. Unavoidably, thoughts of another wedding and another groom came to mind. She'd smiled sadly but was glad she had made her peace with Raoul.  
  
All too soon, the cathedral had risen into view. Now, she sat with Catherine quietly hidden inside the carriage. A small group of passersby waited by the entry to get a glimpse of the bride who had ridden in such a fine carriage.  
  
Taking a shaky breath, Christine turned her attention towards Catherine. An unspoken, womanly bond of emotion passed between them. Christine whispered, "I am so glad you are here." to which Catherine answered, "My child, you are simply luminous. He will be done for when he sees you. I have not seen a more beautiful bride in all my days."  
  
Looking toward the door though which her future awaited, Christine thought of how very far she and Erik had traveled to get to this moment in time. Closing her eyes, she prayed that God would bless their marriage and shine His Face upon them.  
  
Lifting her skirt, she made to exit the carriage.  
  
The sun shone brightly through the opening, momentarily blinding the men who watched. They could hear cheers from well wishers who always gathered outside the church at a wedding.  
  
At the signal from Father Signone, the organist began to play the Ave'.  
  
Stepping as though from the sunshine itself, Christine's golden figure suddenly appeared in the aisle. Her anxious eyes searched for Erik and realized he stood gleaming in silver. Appreciative anew at how alike their minds worked, she thought how fitting it was he had chosen that color.  
  
The audible gasp from the groom brought all eyes to Erik. His face had an indescribable expression of adoration. One tear slipped from his eye but Erik could not perceive any thing or any one except the vision before him. Christine had magically emerged like an angel walking from Heaven's sunshine. His Angel. He could not comprehend her resplendency.  
  
The great door closed dimming the interior as Catherine entered. Everyone in attendance stared at the magnificent, shining bride presenting herself to her husband.  
  
Forgetting himself, Erik moved forward as though in a trance to meet Christine halfway down the aisle. Standing before her radiance, he carefully took her hand in his own. The organist continued to play as they stood before each other in divine awe. Both of them were thinking that the other had never looked more beautiful. All nervousness and worry were erased in the thunderous beat of their hearts and the vivid love glistening in their eyes.  
  
His Christine appeared as though carved of pure, liquid gold. Her hair was curling down her back from a halo of tiny, golden flowers and her blue eyes shown with a splendor that had nothing to do with the gorgeous gown she wore. In her hand, she held a single white rose. If it had not been for her quivering hand in his, Erik would have feared his mind had finally failed him. By no means could there have been a more striking bride. Her beauty always captivated him but, this...this was too much. That she would consent to be his wife, this glorious creature, stole his breath away.  
  
Erik went to Christine's side and meaningfully offered her his arm. Never taking her gaze from his, she placed her hand upon him in answer. Together, stepping in perfect harmony, they made their way toward the priest.  
  
Father Signone began to intone the ritual as Erik and Christine stood facing each other, hand in hand. He felt keenly that he was performing a mere legality as the two somehow seemed already pledged to one another. Strangely, Father Signone felt a peculiar honor to be a witness to this unique union. As they exchanged vows, he noticed for the first time how Erik had worn silver and Christine was dressed in gold.  
  
Two precious metals that compliment each other.  
  
Dominic and Catherine watched with a deferential respect as Erik's hands shook when he placed his ring upon Christine's finger. It was the only moment during the entire service that he had taken his eyes off of her face. Reverently, Erik covered her hand in both of his and looked up at her with an expression no one but Christine could possibly have understood.  
  
When the holy sacrament concluded, Erik received permission to kiss his bride. Although he had not looked from Christine the entire service, he glanced toward Father Signone in solemn gratitude.  
  
Turning to his wife, he took her face gently in both of his hands, and heedless of their witnesses, audibly breathed, "I love you." As he bent to kiss her lips, she closed her eyes with her face upturned to him. The tender, pure kiss they shared consecrated a love realized and a dream fulfilled. Absorbed in their own world, Erik and Christine Lenoire stared at each other as husband and wife. There was not a dry eye at the altar. Each person in attendance, even little Gregory, felt they had witnessed a holy, sacred union.  
  
Giving the enraptured couple privacy, Catherine and Dominic talked quietly with Father Signone complimenting him on the lovely, simple service.  
  
Eventually, Erik became aware that others were waiting to kiss his bride. Reluctantly releasing his wife, Erik accepted congratulations from Dominic and Father Signone. Catherine drew near to him shyly as Dominic hugged Christine exuberantly.  
  
"I thank you for the happiness you have brought to our Christine, monsieur. She is quite dear to us." Catherine said with pride.  
  
Observant of the evident love this woman held for his bride, Erik uncharacteristically took her hand and bent to kiss it. "I am most grateful for your kind care of her, Madame. I hope I will prove worthy to own her love."  
  
Nothing Erik could have uttered would have satisfied her better. Any lingering doubts were expelled the moment Catherine had seen the intensity of their devotion. Impulsively, she stretched up to kiss his cheek while Erik stood surprised, but pleased. Their mutual love for Christine had fastened them in an undeclared alliance.  
  
Christine did not think it imaginable to be so elated. She gravitated back to Erik's side as he looked down to her. Together, they slowly walked down the aisle as husband and wife, appreciating every step.  
  
Once more inside the carriage, Christine rested easily beside her husband. Erik had not spoken nor had he taken his eyes from her. In tacit agreement, neither had broken the incredible aura as any vocal expression would be insufficient. They merely gazed at each other and intermittently, Erik would touch her gown delicately as though she would disappear any moment. Christine's face blazed with obvious happiness as she bestowed a brilliant smile upon him.  
  
The carriage came to a stop outside their home and Christine's driver opened the door for them. Erik carefully assisted her out as though she were made of glass. Dismissing the driver, the cold morning sun shone upon them while the horse's hooves faded away.  
  
He would never, never, -in all eternity- forget the sight of Christine standing before him bathed in sunlight which caused her gown to literally outshine the sun. Her hair blew beneath the circlet of flowers and her short, gold veil lifted in the cold winter breeze. She continued to hold the white rose in a small hand that wore his ring. For a few minutes, Erik remained mute in front of her committing the picture to memory.  
  
Once inside, Christine looked at him. "There is still one more thing we must do to consummate our marriage."  
  
Erik's head tilted in question as she took his hand and led him to the piano.  
  
"Sing with me, Erik."  
  
He gazed at her face in gratefulness. She understood that the only articulation capable of expressing his deep emotion at this time was music. Gently holding his wife, he tried to wordlessly tell her of his overwhelming love and incredulity. Perceptively, Christine lay her head on his chest and whispered, "I know, Erik. I feel the same way."  
  
After he sat down, he paused deciding what song could be most appropriate. At a loss, Erik looked toward her and she began to sing from Faust:  
  
"Oh, how strange! Like a spell does the evening bind me! And a deep languid charm I feel without alarm With its melody enwind me And all my heart subdue..."  
  
Remembering it was the first song she had ever sung for the Phantom, Erik smiled beneath his mask. He began to touch the keys, all the while watching her in her brilliance. When he had gaped out of box five and lost himself to this woman, under no circumstances would he have aspired to think that this could be. Closing his eyes, Erik lost himself in the music, melting at his wife's melodious voice.  
  
Ultimately, Erik joined her in song as they sang to each other of their undying devotion. They celebrated their love as their voices soared in perfect harmony. Continuing the duet, they drifted to each other's arms in a need to touch. No longer were did they sing as maestro and ingénue - they now sung as husband and wife. Cleaving to his bride, his Christine, Erik sang with all his heart and bound himself to her eternally. Her trembling voice betrayed the tears which slid down her face. Oh, how she loved him!  
  
Their song ended and the notes dissolved, leaving them embraced in a tender ambiance. Erik's gaze betrayed his acute anticipation to physically make Christine his wife. Intensely dark, liquid eyes promised her the sensuous passion that she'd come to covet since he had first touched her. Knowing it was time, he lifted Christine possessively in his arms and carried her to their marriage bed.  
  
Erik and Christine were joined emotionally, spiritually, legally and in song. Now, finally, there was only one additional means to communicate their enormous love to each other. 


	14. Reunion Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen  
  
Erik studied their entwined hands in concentration. "Christine?"  
  
"Mmmmmm?" She could not be roused to speech after the explosion she'd just experienced.  
  
"Is it like this for all married couples? This kind of oneness?" He refused to look at her, preferring the safety of his hooded eyes.  
  
Soberly, Christine lifted his chin compelling him to meet her eyes in the dim candlelight. "No, Erik, it is not. There are moments of closeness, but nothing like our love. What we share is very precious and very rare."  
  
His dark eyes shone victoriously. Intently, he affirmed, "I always knew it was special. From the moment I heard you sing and afterward, when I saw you...", he lapsed into silence.  
  
"Yes, it is extraordinary. I believe all couples consider their love as one the world has never known, but for you and I, that is an absolute certainty." Christine kissed his shoulder as her heart burst with love for him.  
  
"Thank you for loving me, Christine." Erik choked unexpectedly, breaking her heart.  
  
"Oh, my darling. Do not thank me, Erik. It is an honor to love you and receive your love in return." She clasped him tightly to her and shut her eyes against the dazzling warmth of his body pressed against hers.  
  
Christine surrendered herself completely to Erik's desire over the next few days. She left their marriage bed only when necessary and never donned a stitch of clothing. Amused, he lavishly complimented her on her wifely submission. He still bewildered her with his ardor and she decided to enlighten him during a brief pause one afternoon.  
  
"Erik, you know you are quite.." she wavered, "quite virile."  
  
Intrigued, he sat up in bed to look at her. With light laughter he responded, "You will definitely have to expound upon that, my dear."  
  
An irrepressible blush crept up much to her dismay. "Well, certainly you are aware that most men could not, um, continue with such resilience."  
  
Staring at her in disbelief, Erik did not speak.  
  
Nervous now, she continued to blunder, "You are enormously amorous, my love. I've never before imagined a man could display such....endurance." Feeling quite like an idiot, she laid down turning her back as though to sleep. Her face was thoroughly crimson.  
  
"Christine, do my attentions trouble you?" he answered in a carefully guarded tenor.  
  
Turning swiftly, she asserted, "Oh, Erik, no! Not in the slightest! I love making love to you and I am most content. Please don't think that I am in any way complaining. I just wanted to.....to compliment you."  
  
Gazing at his bride in an awkward understanding, he did not know whether to laugh out loud or succumb to a growing embarrassment.  
  
As she prayed she had not offended him, Christine was astonished to see the hot color steal up into his face. "Erik, are you blushing?" she whispered to him in complete incredulity.  
  
"Of course not, Christine. Come now, I'm tired." This time, Erik turned away from her as though to sleep.  
  
"You are! You're blushing! Erik, I've made you blush!" she crowed happily. A rebellious glee rushed throughout her at the novel idea that she had embarrassed her regal, imposing husband for a change. Determined to ignore her, he covered his anguish as best he could.  
  
Doggedly, she pursued him in her victory. Unable to retreat now, Erik smiled up at her. "You are most irresistible, my dear." Christine snuggled close to him in satisfaction.  
  
"Now where would you like to go on a wedding trip?" he inquired if only to change the subject.  
  
Aware of his tactic, but allowing it, Christine considered. "I had not thought on it, Erik. Is there anywhere you would like to go?"  
  
"No. I have no preference as long as I am with you." Glorying in the feel of her in his arms, Erik took pride in the dawning realization that she was his wife.  
  
Sarcastically, she reminded him, "Traveling does require one to get out of bed."  
  
Exhaling noisily in mock resignation, he agreed, "Yes, it will be a hardship."  
  
Eventually, it was decided that they would visit Florence, Italy. They prepared to depart France by ship. Always Christine's mainstay, Catherine took care of most of the arrangements for them.  
  
Packing one day before their departure, Christine uncovered the small, weathered case in her luggage.  
  
"Erik." she whispered.  
  
"My love?" He heard the sentiment in her voice and was immediately at her side.  
  
"Erik, sit down. There is something I wish to give to you."  
  
Sitting obediently, he continued to observe her carefully.  
  
Christine had forgotten her gift for him in the blissful days after their wedding. She handed the case to him with both hands, explaining simply, "This was my father's violin. I want you to have it."  
  
As though accepting a valuable, delicate jewel, Erik gingerly took the case from her hands. He stared at it overcome with the honor she bestowed upon him. For he knew how deeply she had loved her father and to offer him this integral link to her past staggered him. Continuing to look at it, while instead seeing the tender meaning behind the gift, he remained totally silent.  
  
Christine stood confused, as well as wondering if he was offended. Not knowing the depth of emotion which shook him to the core, she tried to behave normally and returned to packing. She heard him click the case open and looked behind her.  
  
Erik had not expected such a superior instrument. The violin was aged but obviously of the most impeccable quality. Bringing his gaze back to his wife, Erik's face shown with his gratitude. She knelt beside him in relief. "Play something, Erik. It has not been used since Father died and I think it most apt that the next one to play it should be the Angel of Music whom he sent to me."  
  
His hands unsteady, he retrieved the bow and cautiously drew it across the strings. Closing his eyes in ecstasy at the sound, he played a melody he had learned in his youth.  
  
There was a surreal sense of coming full circle as Christine watched Erik play her father's violin. Something missing from her life since Father passed away was healed in Erik's song. Not since his death had she felt her father's presence more acutely than now. She imagined his silent blessing upon their union softly settling on them with each note Erik played. She rested her head against his knee in appreciation.  
  
After the last note drifted away, Erik looked at her with tears in his eyes. Nothing he said could be adequate at this moment so he merely kissed her in thankfulness.  
  
Christine browsed the millinery shoppe carelessly. Erik had left her to see to their trunks at the port where they were scheduled to leave shortly. The city around her buzzed and fussed reminding her why she chose to live in the country. All of a sudden, a haughty, feminine voice startled her, "Why, surely it can't be Madame le Comtesse?"  
  
Looking up, Christine immediately recognized the wife of one of Raoul's business colleagues. "Marielle, how good to see you again." she answered, wary of this woman whose company she had never particularly enjoyed. Marielle was notorious for her malicious, gossiping tongue.  
  
"Well, I suppose that is not correct now, is it? I believe I recall hearing you recently remarried. Of course you know I wish you years of happiness." The snooty woman insolently looked around her. "Where is your new husband, my dear?"  
  
"Erik is seeing to our trunks. We are leaving on a trip today." Christine answered uncomfortably.  
  
Marielle was joined by another catty acquaintance with whom Christine was familiar. Growing decidedly awkward, Christine politely nodded to the other lady who was looking her up and down disrespectfully. They had never received her into their social circle due to her scandalous past on the stage.  
  
"I see. Whatever is your married name now?" continued Marielle while assessing Christine's new wedding ring.  
  
"Lenoire, Madame. I do not believe I have had the distinct pleasure of meeting my wife's associates." Erik smoothly rescued Christine, unexpectedly standing behind her.  
  
Grateful for his formidable presence, Christine took his hand and properly introduced him. "Marielle Estonde, Sonya Dupret, I would like to present my husband, Monsieur Erik Lenoire."  
  
Erik bowed formally to both ladies overlooking their frank stares at the mask below his hat.  
  
Following a tense gap, Marielle replied, "Indeed, it is a pleasure, Monsieur." All the while her eyes glittered in undisguised, impolite curiosity at this bizarre, masked gentleman before her.  
  
"Christine, unfortunately, we are due to depart shortly. Ladies," he bowed in dismissal. Murmuring her goodbyes, Christine allowed Erik to guide her through the shoppe into the noisy street.  
  
"Erik, that was wonderful! Thank you so much. I detest those women!" she confided into his ear.  
  
Doing his best to release his anger at the fat cats who had cornered Christine, Erik replied casually, "I daresay we've given them much to talk about at tea time."  
  
Christine gaily took his arm as she gazed up him with undisguised pride. "I'm very pleased with the manner you treated those pompous upstarts, my love. They are the wives of prominent businessmen who I was forced to associate with before...well, before. I never liked them but treated them with courtesy only because it was expected. They were all so backstabbing and adored chatting about other people's personal lives." She wrinkled her nose in distaste at the memory.  
  
Erik said nothing for a few moments as they made their way through the crowd close to the docks. Stopping, he glanced down at Christine with merriment in his eyes, "Perhaps their husbands are not quite so......virile?" His eyebrow raised sardonically.  
  
Christine's immense laughter rang through the street as passersby looked curiously at the strange couple. 


	15. Reunion Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen  
  
Christine contentedly surveyed her husband winning a concentrated game of chess. Neither man had spoken since their game had begun. Proudly, she looked down at her sewing quietly confident of Erik's impending victory. She felt the ship move slightly reminding her that it was their last night at sea.  
  
Richard's eyes pierced the board trying to hide his fear that he was cornered. His adversary was extraordinarily gifted in games of strategy. Sitting back, he refused to admit defeat.  
  
Catching Erik's eye momentarily, Christine smiled at his prowess and he discreetly winked at her.  
  
The trip had been wonderful thus far. Christine contemplated her new husband. Erik had altered since their marriage. She had watched in wonder as he unconsciously bloomed under the security of their love. He appeared no longer reticent about appearing in public with his mask. He seemed almost unconcerned about the glances made their way. Although he still preferred to leave their cabin only at night, Erik was totally engrossed in Christine; seeming to care less about the curious side looks to his mask. He would continue on as though there were nothing amiss.  
  
And it was this blessed gift of their love that she treasured most.  
  
Erik met Richard recently one afternoon in the lounge while Christine had napped. He had gone to have a brandy and they had been the only two gentlemen in the lounge. When Richard broke the silence with a political comment about the current French government to which Erik disagreed, it initiated a discussion that had ensued for two hours. After searching the ship over, Christine timidly asked a steward to please check if her husband was in the men's lounge. The bored steward nodded, wondering just how many times he'd been approached by a concerned wife with that particular request. Having no difficulty identifying her husband after her brief description, the steward politely interrupted their heated debate. Erik immediately went to Christine's side apologizing profusely. Richard had followed him and was taken aback by the young wife's beauty. Erik made the introductions after which Richard discreetly excused himself. Respectful of their differences, they'd forged a quick acquaintance. Richard thought little of Erik's mask as there were many men who had returned from war with scarred features.  
  
In the late afternoon, when Richard saw Erik strolling the deck with Christine, he had not wanted to intrude on their privacy. He knew instinctively they were on their wedding trip by their pure absorption in each other. Eventually that evening after supper, Richard begged Christine's indulgence in allowing her husband to engage him in a game of chess. Granting her permission so sweetly, Richard had bemoaned the fact that he was still a bachelor. As they made their way to the board, he complimented Erik on his wife's beauty and poise.  
  
Now confessing defeat at last, Richard held up his hands. "Truly, I do not know how you accomplish it, Erik. It perplexes me."  
  
"It is enjoyable to have a worthy adversary." Erik gracefully stood and gazed at Christine. Immediately understanding the glint in his eyes, she asked Erik if he would see her to their cabin. Bowing in farewell, they left Richard to puzzle over which move had left him no retreat.  
  
The frigid sea air hit them as they reached the deck. Erik breathed deeply of the fresh scent of the ocean. "My love, I do not believe I've ever been more content in my entire life."  
  
Sincerely beholden to God for Erik's happiness, Christine squeezed his arm in response.  
  
Christine had never been to Florence. She found she adored the romance of Italy, and to Erik's amusement, she insisted upon seeing everything. Her reverent delight at the Duomo, the Baptistery and the Companile pleased him greatly for they had always been some of his favorite structures. It was Erik's decided opinion that it was without a doubt Brunelleschi's best work and no other architect had been able to match his talent. Christine had stopped walking to earnestly reply, "That is only because you are not Italian, Erik." He had laughed at her sincerity but secretly he prized her admiration.  
  
They enjoyed the Donatello bronzes, the Botticelli smiles, and all the other treasures offered in the historic city. One evening, however, they lay abed after making love watching the spring breeze blow the sheer curtains from entrance of their balcony. Erik sat up against the headboard holding her, while carelessly winding one of her curls around his finger. Christine was apprehensive at bringing up a difficult subject.  
  
Sporadically, one of his dark, brooding moods had clutched him. At such times, she let him retreat into writing or composing from which he would emerge exhausted but cleansed of his black introspection. She knew that his genius must be assuaged by creative expression. Their time in Italy had been especially ideal and she hesitated to trouble Erik's peace with her thoughts. She was only slightly astonished when he said softly, "My sweet, you are going to have to tell me eventually. You may as well do so now."  
  
Lifting her head to look at him, she asked, "Why, Erik, how did you know what I was thinking?"  
  
He smiled lazily. "You are my wife, Christine. We cannot share so much together without a profound bond. I could tell something has been worrying you for days now." God, he loved this complete relaxation he felt after loving her. What an incredible feeling.  
  
She set her chin upon his lean belly and sighed. "I'm not worried exactly but I have to speak with you about something...sensitive."  
  
Erik remained silent, still curling her hair in his hand and waited for her to continue.  
  
In a rush, she blurted, "Erik, I want to go to Paris."  
  
"Paris!?" his voice rose alarmingly and he sat straight up. "Christine, why would you want to return there?"  
  
Dismayed at the response she had expected, Christine put her hand on his cheek. "Love, please don't be so upset."  
  
"Upset? I'm beyond upset, my dear. You would have us return there to that place of pain?" he spat angrily as he sat on the edge of the bed and made to get up.  
  
Reaching over, Christine leaned against his back and wrapped her arms lightly around his neck. "Please don't leave, Erik. I beg you listen to what I have to say before you lose your temper. Will you?"  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief as he nodded tautly.  
  
Speaking gently into his ear, Christine told him of her plan. "Darling, I think we should go back for a brief visit. Of course, we would not see anyone there nor would we go about in the daytime." Kissing his neck tenderly, she went on, "There are a great many ghosts to be laid to rest there, Erik. We should see to the past before we embrace our future. I am only suggesting a brief nighttime visit to the Opera using the old Rue Scribe entrance. We ought to return there one more time. And this time, leave together."  
  
Finished, Christine hugged him and kissed his scarred cheek. She had made her case and now she would let him decide. This was something she felt strongly about, however, and she hoped he would see her reasoning. Laying down on the bed again, she quietly awaited his judgment.  
  
Erik sat poker straight, tense and rigid. The very thought of going back to that God-forsaken place quaked him. His hands were in fists and he consciously relaxed them. He had nearly died when she left him there so many years ago. Why would she wish to return there now that they were so happy? Standing, he walked out toward the balcony to brood unaware that Christine had begun to weep noiselessly.  
  
Sun streamed through the open door as birds heralded a beautiful, Italian spring morning. Christine stretched while at the same time reaching for Erik. She came awake when she realized her hand met emptiness on his side of the bed. "Erik?"  
  
Sitting up abruptly holding the sheet to cover her, she raised her voice louder, "Erik, are you there?"  
  
Concerned now, she left their bed to walk to the balcony wrapping the sheet around her to cover herself. He was not here. Christine attempted to reassure herself that he had merely gone downstairs to get their breakfast or for a walk, but fear crept its cold fingers around her heart.  
  
Chastising herself for mentioning Paris in the first place, she went back to their bed. Gathering Erik's pillow in her arms, she hugged it closely. She'd not been away from his side practically since they were wed. For him to leave with no explanation showed the extent of his offense. Tears slipped little by little down her cheeks as she grasped that she had once again hurt him. Would she never stop grieving him?  
  
Turning at a light noise on the balcony, she saw Erik enter like a majestic, dark shadow. She immediately sat up and began to apologize. He walked over to her and placed his finger over her lips. Kneeling down, he wiped her tears away and kissed her affectionately. "You are right, my Angel. We'll go to Paris one more time." 


	16. Reunion Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen  
  
PARIS: Using the key he still kept in his possession, Erik opened the door off the Rue Scribe. He and Christine paused at the entrance while a myriad of memories mingled with the love they now shared. Taking her hand, Erik led her through the entry and into the familiar, dank corridor. He lit a torch from the wall to light their way and guided her through the darkness. The moment seemed otherworldly to each as both fought with bittersweet memories. The years seemed to melt away and Christine was once again his pupil. The exact same smell of the clammy air combining with the smoke from the torch; the image of Erik in front of her with his black hat and cloak blending with the darkness; the same touch of his hand on hers - again, leading her.  
  
Erik stepped as imperceptibly as a ghost through the well-known passages knowing he would have found his way even without the aid of a flame. He was surprised at the swift rush of memories, both good and bad, that assailed him as he walked once more through the cellars with Christine. So much had happened since they last walked this way..  
  
Turning, Erik deftly steered Christine down several small passageways until she gasped in surprise. Before them was the underground lake that had led to Erik's home. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and he smiled slightly. "Oh, Erik.."  
  
Situating the flame, he went to stand next to her and gather her in his arms. Christine trembled against him but he knew it was not from the cold. This was difficult for him as well. Remembering the loneliness of this place, he would have gladly departed immediately. However, Christine had wisely suggested the past be put to rest. Kissing the top of her head, he marveled again that she was his wife. How many times had he dreamt of this moment beyond this very lake? Erik had planned to die there without ever knowing love and certainly without Christine. Comparing his previous existence to the joy he knew now with her, for the first time in his life - Erik was glad to be alive.  
  
Christine could feel the turmoil inside him; relieved she was not the only one experiencing the surge of conflicting feelings. Reminiscing, she thought of the times spent with Erik in his hidden lair. All the lessons she had learned there after he had first lured her below. Thinking of the girl she had been and remembering her first seduction of Erik, she felt like two different people. That girl had been in love with Raoul; his handsome face and aristocratic bearing had made him like a prince from a fairytale. When he offered to protect her, she seized the chance to have someone else make her decisions for her as her father had once done. The girl had loved Raoul, but the woman in her had always loved Erik.  
  
Christine sighed with regret when she thought of the pain she had inflicted upon him. As if reading her mind, he tightened his arms and whispered, "It's all right, my love." She was getting rather accustomed to his uncanny intuition.  
  
"It seems appropriate that we should stand here now, Erik, as husband and wife. Does it not?" she said thoughtfully.  
  
Fully aware that dreams do come true, Erik agreed, "Yes, it does, my Christine." They continued to hold each other for many more minutes until Erik suggested they go to the roof and watch the sunset once more. The romantic suggestion delighted Christine and they moved down another hallway of the labyrinth.  
  
"Erik, how did you ever find your way around here in the darkness?" she questioned him.  
  
"My dear, you must remember that I did help build the structure.", he replied. Sighing wistfully, he confessed, "I recall thinking that at least something of mine would be left behind after I died. It gave me a peculiar satisfaction to know that this building would exist long after I had gone."  
  
Christine said nothing, keeping step behind him. Erik abruptly stopped without warning and under her breath, she whispered in alarm, "Erik, what is it?"  
  
He set down the torch once again and took her hands in his own. She could not see his face since the light shone from behind him. He seemed one tall, imposing shadow but instead of frightening her, it thrilled her. In an odd voice, he beseeched, "Christine, tell me you love me. Right here and now."  
  
Gazing to where she imagined his eyes to be in the vague white of his mask, she smiled up, "Erik, I love you deeply. No, my darling, more than love - I adore you."  
  
Quickly, he gathered her in a desperate, crushing embrace. She could feel his heart pounding in her ear as her head rested upon his chest. "Erik, please tell me." she implored him.  
  
Silently, Erik stepped aside and Christine saw it. Her mirror. The mirror before which she had first heard his angelic voice. Her old dressing room stood behind it crammed with old, dusty furniture and several crates apparently turned into a storage area. She placed her fingertips on the glass lost in thought. "It seems another lifetime ago." she mused softly. Returning her vision to him, she said sadly, "I wish I could go back and change so many things, Erik."  
  
His lips turned up faintly as he replied, "You'd have altered your visit from the Angel of Music perhaps?"  
  
"Yes," she countered vehemently, "I would never have betrayed him. I would have followed my heart."  
  
Bringing her as close to him as possible, his answer surprised her. "I would not change a thing." Christine looked up at him confused.  
  
"For what I know now with you, my precious Christine, I would do it all again. How I love you." Erik breathed.  
  
Pulling his face down to kiss him, Christine considered herself complete. They stood exactly where they had first seen each other face to face. Here, through the mirror and in his arms, she was whole.  
  
Starting once more, it seemed that the stairs they climbed were never- ending. Both of them were deeply lost in thought. At length, they reached the top and Erik opened the door to the roof of the Opera.  
  
Secure in Erik's arms, Christine leaned her back against his chest watching a red sun painting streaks along the sky. How many sunsets did they watch when he had been her teacher? Erik had known then that she missed the sunlight but he would only venture out toward evening. He was always so solicitous of her desires. Once again, she thanked God that He had seen fit to bring them back together. There were so many things that they were certain to share and, remembering, she whispered, "Erik, there is something I must tell you."  
  
"Hmmmmm?" he murmured into her hair. This was a precious moment for him, moreso than even Christine realized. Now - with her, at the pinnacle of his Opera, at the pinnacle of his life - he could not imagine being more blissful.  
  
Turning but remaining in the circle of his strong arms, Christine eyes sparkled, "Erik, I am with child."  
  
The expression on his face was priceless and Christine laughed with the joy of having finally bewildered her Maestro at long last.  
  
Unwittingly, Erik had been holding his breath. He exhaled sharply and took Christine's face in his shaking hands. "Say that again." he ordered.  
  
"We are going to have a child, Erik. A child!" she exulted triumphantly. "You no longer have to believe that the structure upon which you stand will be your only legacy." She put her hand over his on her abdomen. "Our son or daughter will be a living testimony to our love."  
  
His hand rested against her warm body but Erik could not process the enormity of her declaration. Dimly aware that she watched him, he could not utter a sound. Christine knew that he had not suspected and was not dismayed by his lack of response. Erik had not thought to ever marry, let alone sire a child, so she waited for him to grasp the concept. Quietly, she moved in front of him again keeping his hand on her abdomen but covering his hand with her own.  
  
As Christine leaned against him, Erik felt that the ground had dropped from beneath him. Certain he had not heard her correctly, he had her repeat the words once more. She appeared to understand that he had not been at all prepared for her announcement. Erik was downright astonished. He was going to be a father. Christine was carrying their child - his child! Incapable of rationality, he thought for a long time absorbing the revelation. Their baby - a baby! Without warning, a wave of love and longing for the life that Christine sheltered below her heart swept over him and he closed his eyes against it. He had just been thinking that he could not possibly contain another drop of happiness. Would his sweet wife never stop amazing him?  
  
Making her face him, Erik beheld Christine with new eyes. He noticed as how her bright eyes shone and her skin practically glowed. Yes, motherhood agreed with her. "When?" he breathed in awe.  
  
Proudly, she put her hand over herself again saying, "I believe in about six months from now." She smiled broadly at him in contentment.  
  
Embracing her with utmost tenderness, Erik lowered his lips to her feeling the wonder anew. It was all so remarkable - this unimagined blessing. Kissing her deeply, he held her carefully as though she were extremely fragile. Choked with tears, he had to stop their kiss in order to breathe. As they embraced each other, a fierce possessiveness gripped him for his wife and child. He yearned impatiently to hold the evidence of their love, a boy or a girl. He whispered almost to himself, "I don't deserve such miracles."  
  
Stepping back from him, Christine sternly replied, "Yes, you do, Erik. You deserve much more than I can give to you." At his adamant refusal, she placed her fingertips over his mouth. "Listen to me. The beauty inside you has no equal. Erik, had you been born with a normal face, you would still be set apart from others. There is nothing ordinary about you and there never has been. The genius, talent and the love that I see inside you each and every day of our lives overwhelms me with its majesty." Erik made to turn away from her esteem but she kept him firmly in place with her hands on his shoulders. He turned his head away from her, hiding his face with the brim of his hat as she continued. "Oh, Erik, everyone is scarred and ugly. It is just that most of us carry our ugliness hidden on the inside behind the mask of gentility. You, my husband, are the exact opposite. Your beauty lies inside your brilliant soul where your loveliness outshines us all."  
  
Erik's shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. Christine finished, "It is due you, my love. It is time for you to experience joy. You've had enough sorrow to last more than one lifetime. Now, let us leave here and put the Opera Ghost to rest."  
  
Christine walked several paces from Erik and offered her hand to him.  
  
Wondering when she had grown so wise, Erik worshipped her with his gaze. Tears streamed unheeded down his face and beneath his mask. Leaving behind a lifetime of solitude, he reached out and clasped her hand. The sun had set and night began to fall chilling the air around them.  
  
Resolutely, it was Christine who now led him down to the labyrinth. She felt it was symbolic that she lead him away from this darkness where he had known nothing but pain. If it were within her power, she would show him only happiness for as long as she lived.  
  
Erik could not remember ever permitting anyone to lead him before. At times, she hesitated unsure of which direction to go and he would gesture the correct way. Still holding their light aloft, he allowed Christine to take him down the stairs, past the mirror and beyond the lake to the doorway leading to the street. She looked at him poignantly when they reached the threshold and he understood her silent message.  
  
'We will leave the anguish and sorrow here and not carry them with us anymore. The ghosts that have haunted us for so long will remain here and rest in peace.'  
  
Stepping out into the misty night, Erik closed and locked the door firmly on his past and turned toward his future. Looking earnestly at his bride and the mother of his child, he literally and figuratively threw away the key.  
  
And so, Christine and her Phantom left the Opera for the final time, hand in hand, never to return.  
  
The End 


	17. Reunion The End

When I heard this song the other day, I felt that it perfectly reflected "Reunion."  
  
It was very bittersweet to end this story that is so dear to my heart. Thank you one and all who have left reviews with constructive criticism and encouragement.  
  
Gratefully - Alison Fey, 2003  
  
A Love Song for Christine & Erik  
  
After All  
  
(Love Theme from Chances Are)  
  
Duet by Cher with Peter Cetera  
  
Well, here we are again  
  
I guess it must be fate  
  
We've tried it on our own  
  
But deep inside we've known  
  
We'd be back to set things straight  
  
I still remember when  
  
Your kiss was so brand new  
  
Every memory repeats  
  
Every step I take retreats  
  
Every journey always bring me back to you  
  
Chorus  
  
After all the stops and starts  
  
We keep coming back to these two hearts  
  
Two angels who've been rescued from the fall  
  
After all that we've been through  
  
It all comes down to me and you  
  
I guess it's meant to be  
  
Forever you and me  
  
After all  
  
When love is truly right  
  
It lives from year to year  
  
It changes as it grows  
  
And oh the way it grows  
  
But it never disappears  
  
After all the stops and starts  
  
We keep coming back to these two hearts  
  
Two angels who've been rescued from the fall  
  
Always just beyond my touch  
  
You know I needed you so much  
  
After all, what else is living for? 


End file.
